


Speed of Freedom

by RaelinThaon



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: F/M, I'm not kidding, Jude is an ass, Racing, Street Racing, Violence, and sweet rides, but there's tooth rotting NaLu fluff, he's a complete douche
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-08-23 23:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16628225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaelinThaon/pseuds/RaelinThaon
Summary: Life is fantastic for one Lucy Heartfilia. Nothing else matters except her friends, her car, and Fiore’s number one mechanics shop, Fairy Tail. Under the hood, they are a famous street racing Family ruling the Underground World. Nothing nor no one can get in the way of her freedom or can they?Cross-posted on FF.net under Grizzly98s profile





	1. Fairy's Garage

Moonlight breaks through the foliage overhead, illuminating a single paved road weaving through the thick trees. Too late for the diurnal creatures to be up, but too early for the nocturnal to seek their nests and hollows quiet sounds fill the night air… Until a subtle tremor racks the ground. Within the trees a herd of deer freeze as one, their eyes focused on the road as the subtle tremor grows, resolving into a thudding bass that has the shy creatures running for the shelter of the deep shadows. More nocturnal creatures follow their lead, running from the deep bass as bright blue LED lights flood the road.

The Honda, a midnight blue blurring the finer detailing with its speed hits a curve in the road and the driver—a blonde haired woman wearing a sharp smile—steps on the brake, easily drifting into the turn as if it’s second nature. Nodding her head to the bass, her smile begins to fade, her chocolate eyes hardening with anger under the dashboard lights. With her mind falling back to the argument that had led her here, she steps on the gas, releasing her anger in the form of the engine under the hood roaring it to the world.

She’d been having a fine day until her father had decided to test her patience. It is far from the first time, she’d left the house with a bit more anger, little less control, and more of a need for speed then her Mother would prefer but with said parent not present the blonde had realized it’d be easier to get away then do something she may regret. When her eyes catch onto the lights in the distance illuminating the bridge leading to her hometown her white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel loosens and she snorts.

She just had to take Igneel and Metalicana but leave me with the asshat. The one fucking...Inhaling, she carefully loosens her grip again. It wouldn’t do to crash before she could even reach her home. At that, she grins, leaning back in her seat. The mansion might be the house she’s grown up in twenty-five percent of her short life but her home is nowhere as neat or empty. No, she thinks quietly, her eyes catching a flash of lights in her side mirror. It’s definitely not empty.

As she can just make out the bridge in the dark, the LED lights belonging to a second car is quickly followed by a thunderous roar she’d recognize anywhere. Laying off the gas allows the nose of a cherry red Acura NSX she knows intimately to appear in her driver’s side window. The matte red scale detail spreading across the car’s side catches her eye for only a moment before a salmon-haired male wearing a pair of goggles is grinning at her from behind the driver’s seat. Grinning back, the blonde throws him a two finger salute and speeds up, the roar of both cars echoing across the bridge.

Natsu Dragneel, she smirks, a familiar warmth blooming in her chest knowing he’s there. The pinkett—It’s salmon, damnit, she knows he’d argue—is the heir and prince of one of the strongest Families in the city of Magnolia. With his Father and her Mother having been friends for so long, she’s practically grown up with the man but it wasn’t until Igneel and Metalicana, Natsu’s uncle, started showing her the ins-and-outs of cars and mechanics in total, she started growing closer to the energetic and endearing boy.

While the shart eating heifer that she calls her father hadn’t taken to the idea with an ounce of anything save distaste, her Mother had fully agreed and encouraged her to dive headfirst into the wonderful world of engines, adrenaline, and speed that is fast cars and racing. Her first underground race, it had in fact been Igneel and Metalicana that’d taken her when Natsu asked that she go. And when things with the bastard at home got rough the blonde had always sped off to the Dragneels to hide and let off steam—this time being no different even if three of her favorite people are halfway across the world.

A dull roar draws her from her thoughts and she looks over to the right-hand mirror, grinning at the white Mitsubishi she sees rolling up. Even though its roar is duller than the Acura’s she knows, for a fact, it has enough power under the hood to easily keep up in a race around the city of Magnolia. In fact, it has. With her cool-headed raven-haired best friend behind the wheel, the ice blue rimmed wheels have won many races for their home garage. Speaking of which... Spotting her friend pulling even with her passenger window she throws a wink at him, sticking her tongue out playfully. He grins at her in return and as one the trio of cars runs a red light, drifting casually around a turn. 

Over the tops of some of the smaller buildings, an odd birdlike profile billboard grabs her attention and her chocolate eyes soften in joy. Her home, her real home: Fairy Tail. Little more than a warehouse it’s one of the most popular garages on the East Coast, quickly rising in popularity across Fiore and internationally. People with deep pockets looking to buff their ego, or Racers, street and drag alike, flock to them with requests for many things ranging from custom parts to paint jobs. 

Her own paint job, the constellations splattered across the sides of her car, having been a gift from a professional painter friend of hers working there. But what most people don’t know—and most street racers like herself refuse to admit to anyone who doesn’t already know—the legal Fairy Tail is just a cover. Most of their business is dealt with the underground among the street races, Families, and Mafias making up Fiore’s Underworld. 

As they round the turn onto the road leading to the warehouse located on the pier in front of the ocean a deep red Subaru WRX rounds the turn several seconds behind them, its engine roaring to announce its approach as it slides in behind the blonde’s own car. Upon approaching the warehouse a garage door opens and the four of them slide on in, the garage door coming down behind the Subaru with a dull thud. Parking in a corner out of the way of the equipment sprawled around several lifts, the blonde climbs out, grinning at the midnight-haired man.

“You really think you can get at me, Gray?” The man, slamming his own car door shut, folds his arms over top the roof, shrugging at her. He lacks a shirt, pale skin shining in the workshop lights, but it doesn’t seem to bother him even with the slight chill off the water. 

“Meh, it was worth the try.” And he grins, winking at her. “At least I don’t have to watch my back.” Now she’s really confused. Gray isn’t typically the one to play games with her. Save for the stripping habit that lands him behind bars at least once a month he’s generally more of the gentlemanly kind. Natsu on the other hand…

She squeals when strong arms wrap around her waist confining her against a warm well-muscled chest. Rough laughter rumbles through his chest, tickling her ear and a dark blush colors her cheeks. “Damnit, Natsu! Put me down!” She grabs his arms, trying for leverage to turn to glare at the goggles she can see resting in spiked pink locks. Dye job, She decides. Gray might be able to help me slip it into Natsu’s bathroom. She pauses, looking thoughtful and inwardly shakes her head. Definitely Gajeel or even Wendy. Gray would make too much of a mess. 

His arms tense around her stomach and she can practically see the gears turning in his head. When he sets her down, scowling at her she knows he’s followed her train of thought. “Oh, HELL no! You’re not getting me with one of your pranks again Luce.”

Turning around, she sets her fists on her hips and smirks at the pinkett. “Then maybe you should know better than to surprise me!” Her smirk softens into a playful grin and she leans back, tapping an index finger against her chin and looking thoughtful. “Hmm,” She hums, glancing over to find his onyx eyes widening a fraction. “Maybe I’ll see if Reedus and Levy will help me respray your car. Pink is a good color on you.”

His jaw drops, leaving him gaping like a fish. Terror shining in his eyes, she keeps the playful grin in place, cackling madly on the inside. She decides to let him think she’s going to respray his car, but she’s already running through a list of colors to dye his hair. Lucy’s grin widens into a smirk as she turns around and starts heading for the door. I think I’ll ask Wendy to help. Natsu has been teasing her a lot lately about Romeo. She hums, absentmindedly taking her boots off in the utility room and heads for the loud voices. 

XxX

Natsu watches in growing horror as Lucy turns her back and heads inside. Shaking himself out of his stupor, he gives chase, his mind running around a simple thought in terror. She was kidding! She had to be kidding! She knows how much my car means to me!! He thinks frantically. But he also knows the blonde well enough to know she would definitely do something to his car. She knows he would never do anything to her. Everyone else—except the women, they’re childish, not suicidal!—is fair game.

He follows her through a metal door propped open by a piece of scrap metal welded onto a hinge for that reason into the living area where everyone else seems to be chilling for the evening. Off to his left is a kitchen area cordoned off by an island made up of a large wooden wire spool cut in half and a piece of oak glued between the two pieces. Faint smells of cooked food linger in the air, proof of the dinner that had been cooked and the empty dishes with remaining food lining the island. 

Ignoring the white-haired women busy cleaning up the kitchen, he steps further into the room, his eyes wondering over the industrial washer and dryer on the wall opposite the kitchen. Finding nothing there he turns to the main area filled with couches, sofas, and loveseats surrounding a large TV. Behind the large TV a set of stairs rises to the second floor, the walls bolted to the metal rafters preventing anyone from seeing the two halls leading to the separate rooms for anyone to crash.

Noises from the movie—A Fast and Furious if he had to take a guess—fills the background around the conversations meeting him. The atmosphere itself is relaxed, calm compared to their normal daily madness, and he finds himself settling under the familiar surroundings. A soft grin spreads across his face at being among others he considers family. When his eyes land on the raven-haired stripper telling the guys lounging on the far right seat a story he scowls, walking up to them. 

It’s the blue-haired mohawk wearing designer, Bickslow, that catches sight of him first. The Auto Designer grins, his tongue sticking out of his mouth to reveal a tattoo of the crew logo in black, and speaks to Gray, pointing at Natsu. He turns, smirking at the pinkett. “Oi! Flame Brain…” Gray doesn’t get to finish before Natsu lurches forward, fist flying. In the next instant the two boys are brawling all over the living area. And yet no one really pays attention to the two. Expertly dodging and weaving out of the way while never breaking from their chosen activities. 

Above the entertainment room, a short man no taller than three feet stands on the railing, grinning at the chaos being caused. His head, while bald on top, has a crown of white hair covering the back and sides. A white-gray fur-trimmed overcoat covers his black shirt and part of his black khakis not hidden by his calf-high black boots. The owner of the Garage and the company, a burst of pride flares in his chest at the brats he’s taken in and rescued from a life on the streets. Some, he’s taken care of since they were teens, while others have simply wandered in and never left. 

When Natsu and Gray’s brawl comes within rocking distance of the TV, Makarov takes a deep breath. “Alright, Brats!” Everything comes to a pause, the twenty or so people sprawled across the room turning to look at his. “Time to hit the sack. Remember, we have a busy day ahead of us!” He can’t help the grin that stretches his features when the younger brats groan in annoyance. But, no one seems to be up for arguing with him tonight, only a handful of people move for the door leading out to the main garage, the remainder begins filing for the stairs leading up.

Natsu on the other hand, pouts, eyes folding into a puppy pout that normally has the old man folding and allowing them to stay up later. Thankfully, for Makarov at least, Lucy stalks over to the pinkett, grabbing him by his ear. “Oh, we are not doing this tonight. We have work to do tomorrow and I am not having my car taken away because you decided to stay in bed!”

“Lucy!” He whines, scrabbling at the iron hold on his ear. “Come on, he hasn’t done it in forever!” The blonde ignores his pleas, dragging him up the stairs behind a passive redhead hauling Gray by his ear as well. Caught in the line of people crawling up the stairs when Lucy reaches the top, she and Natsu are stuck waiting for a minute.

In that time, Makarov turns to her, his brows folding in worry. “Lucy, my dear,” He murmurs. When he catches her eye he tilts his head. “Is everything alright?” She smiles but the old man can tell it’s fake. The corners are too tight, the light that normally shines in her eyes is dampened. It’s a smile he’s come to know too often in these last few years…

“Yeah, Gramps, everything's great.” Before he can call her out on her strained tone she and Natsu are gone, the pinkett following her down the right walkway still rubbing his ear. Then they round the corner of the wall into the hall and are out of the old man’s sights. Natsu, having noticed the tightness in Lucy’s shoulders, frowns, keeping a close eye on her figure. 

The hall they enter is lined with five doors to a wall. Both walls are splattered in every color of paint possible, some blending to make different pictures while others just look like someone had taken a bucket of paint and threw it at the wall. When they pass a negative profile of a human with a spikey head, the pinkett grins, a memory of an aggravated Gajeel chasing him into the main garage with a paint roller crosses his mind. The doors themselves are little better, to say the least. Between the handprints and names signed across the doors, it’d be safe to say that at least everyone in the crew has made their mark at least once. 

He and Lucy stop at the third door on the left, Lucy grabbing the doorknob but seemingly unable to turn it. Sensing her turbulent emotions, Natsu steps forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. She shrugs it off, though, and opens the door, about to close it on him before he slips his foot in and halts the motion. She scowls, glaring at the pinkett with angerless anger. “Go to bed, Natsu.”

“No,” His fist clenches, when his hand closed into a fist he hasn’t the slightest idea. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.” He doesn’t miss the way she bites her lip, or the impressions her short manicured nails leave in her palm, but most of all it’s the chained agony in her eyes that has him pushing through the door to wrap his arms around her. When she dips her head into his shoulder he tilts his lips to her ear, murmuring nearly under his breath. “Remember, Lucy, I’m always here. There will always be a Natsu and Lucy.” She’s not ready to talk, he knows. It’s always like this when something troubles his blonde. She won’t talk until she’s ready so when he feels her nod, he steps back, allowing Lucy to close the door.

Walking to the next door down, he quietly opens it and closes it behind him. Locking the door behind him, he takes his goggles off, throwing them on the nightstand beside the bed before stripping off his shirt and throwing it in the direction of the door where he knows a coat hanger is nailed into the wood. Frankly, to him at this point, he doesn’t care if it makes it or not. Instead, he turns off the lamp on the nightstand and crashes into the bed, closing his eyes to ward off the lights from the other rooms bouncing off the underside of the roof.

XxX

He’s woken by his head hitting the floor. Growling, he sits up, rubbing the back of his head to find Lucy dressed in blue overalls standing in front of his feet with her hands on her hips. From the bright light bouncing off the roof, the pinkett can already guess it’s early morning. Probably an hour before we have to be downstairs. He rolls his eyes, sitting up to get to his feet. “Alright, I’m up. What’s up with the sour look?”

As he pulls on the shirt Lucy has so helpfully chucked at his head he finds his door is open and she’s holding up a lock picking set. “Next time don’t lock your door or I’ll have Elfman rush it.” Swallowing at the threat he grabs his goggles and walks past her. It’s not an idle threat, he knows. She’s done it before and made him pay for another. With it being his room, Makarov won’t step in just because he decided to be an idiot. They’ve been over this before with the entire crew. Some of them have permanent rooms in the garage, while others have apartments throughout the city. He for one prefers his room in the garage so it’s become his permanent living quarters for the time being. His blonde on the other hand…

Could it have been…? Shaking off the question rolling around in his mind he jogs down the steps. There are at least three rooms constantly being used as permanent living arrangements like his but the other seventeen are free to be used by any of the crew who need to crash for the night, need to hide from the law, or are simply too lazy to leave for their own places. Judging by the number of people sitting on the couches he’s going to say that no one wanted to go home last night. 

Particularly when Gramps calls for an early morning. He scowls at that, glaring at the plates piled with food sitting on the island. Shitty Gramps and his shitty rules. He grabs a plate for him and Lucy, piling his own three times the height of hers and walks over to where she’s sitting down with two glasses of orange juice sitting on the coffee table in front of her. It’s not an uncommon morning for them to eat in silence—he is not awake until his hands are covered in grease and the first engine of the day is roaring in front of him. Fuck anyone who says otherwise.—but it is uncommon for Lucy to eat little more than her grits and plop everything else on his plate. 

A glance at her from the corner of his eye, though, has him returning to his plate. If she wants to tell me she will. With that thought in mind, he finishes off his plate, downs the rest of his orange juice, and grabs all four dishes to drop in the sink. Quietly he thanks the gods he doesn’t have dish duty this week and takes off for the door of the garage, pausing only long enough to slip on his boots in the utility room before pushing the door open and walking down the wall to the bench he shares with the stripper. 

For all they fight, he and the Ice Prick are pretty good—fucking awesome in his opinion—at taking apart and putting back together a race worthy engine in under a day. The simple engine problems Makarov sends their way? A walk in the park. Going through his morning checklist takes half an hour, at which everyone else begins to enter the garage, those working the lifts moving to open their doors and prepare their benches lined along the back wall. He knows the computer geeks are still waking up, those under Office-Management and in Auto Design are allowed to start work at nine am while everyone in the garage has to be up and ready to work by seven am. A two-hour difference, from experience, allows the garage workers time to work through the ordinary repair jobs before the Designers start flooding them with the custom jobs.

Another fifteen minutes pass by in which Gray finally joins him at their bench, putting the last of their tools in order before the door to the Living Quarters slams shut with a bang loud enough to echo through the entire workshop. “Alright, listen up!” At the bellow, he and Gray turn to the redhead wearing grease-stained blue overalls, a pair of worn steel toe boots, with her hair pinned back in a functional braid. Her eyes, a dark chocolate brown, when they land on him and Gray are serious. “We’ve got a lot to do today in just a few short hours if Makarov is gonna let us off early tonight.” When she turns away, her eyes roaming over the heads present she scowls, tapping the clipboard in her hand against her hip. “Where is Gajeel? He should know by now to be here on time.”

Three car lifts down, across from the double doors leading to the shop for custom parts two men hide partially behind the open door. Their attempts to hold back their laughter fail and Erza sets her sights on them. “Sarusuke, Droy, where is Gajeel?” The orange-haired man jumps, knocking the back of his head into the raven-haired man’s chin and stumbles out onto the floor, a hand rubbing the sore spot on his head.

“Gajeel went to Levy’s last night.” He winces, one eye closed at the tender spot on his head. “He said he’d be in ‘when the geeks and Shrimp come in.’” Natsu has to bite back a chuckle at the man’s near exact replication of his cousin’s own grinding bass of a tone.

The redhead nods, her expression going neutral. “I see, very well then. I’ll speak to Makarov about that after we’re done here.” With that she folds over a paper on the clipboard, skimming the papers quickly before beginning to call out, “Paint and Detailing, we need the frames for the Charger, Camaro, and F150 by closing today. Deadline’s coming fast so we need to be faster. I trust you’ll get it done?”

She glances up and Lucy smirks, tossing her a two fingered salute. “Aye, Sir! We’ll have ‘em done.” Receiving another nod from Erza, Lucy turns to the double doors set at the opposite end of the warehouse leading to the Paint and Detailing shop. The others in that shop having been counted for, they follow her, murmuring about their orders.

“Mechanics!” Natsu perks up at the call and focuses on the redhead. It won’t do for him to mess something up just because he wasn’t paying attention after all. “Standard oil changes, a couple tire rotations, got an engine that’s making rattling noises, who’s up for that one?” She glances up as she rattles off and almost immediately Natsu shoots his hand in the air, grinning at her. 

“We’ve got it, Erza. Give the oil changes to Elfhead.” 

On the redhead’s other side the mountain of a man that goes by Elfman scowls, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not manly to claim all the interesting projects to yourself, Natsu.”

Natsu sticks his tongue out at the giant and Erza waves it off, nodding at the pinkette. “It doesn’t matter. Natsu and Gray have the rattling engine. Other than a couple of gaskets, loose hoses and two inspections there’s not much else. I’ll leave the paper on the wall so you four can decide between yourselves who gets the rest. Natsu and Gray, the rattling engine will be in about one o’clock so find something on the list to keep yourselves busy until then.” 

Having received their orders, the salmon-haired mechanic falls to the back of the crowd allowing Erza to hand out the rest of the orders to the Custom Parts crew. After that’s done she takes the sheet with the Mechanic orders on it and pins it to the corkboard bolted to the wall beside the Living Quarters door. Almost immediately Gray wanders over to look at the other jobs while he hangs back at the bench. It’s their usual routine, he grabs the interesting jobs when Erza announces them in the morning and Gray decides which mundane jobs they’re to do in the meantime. After all the Auto Designers never really poke at the mechanics, typically leaving them to their own unless there’s a problem with the custom parts not fitting correctly. 

When Gray gets back with their part of the standard orders they get to work, calling in one of the few customers waiting in the small lobby like building built next to the warehouse itself. 

In what seems no time at all the clock on the wall strikes nine am. Natsu, up to the waist under the hood of a Silverado 2500 looks up when he hears a door slam. He grins, uncaring of the grease mark stretching across his forehead as he looks at his bench partner. “Showtime!” Gray hushes him, turning to watch as the Living Quarters door slams open. 

“Gramps! This isn’t fair! Ain’t like I missed anything Dumb and Dumber couldn’t do!” The deep angry bass follows Makarov as he walks out the door, a keyring held tightly in his hand. Natsu has to bite his lip to stop from laughing but as soon as he catches sight of his black-haired cousin stomping through the door on metal studded boots he feels a flicker of pity in his stomach. Being late to work is one thing...being grounded is something much different.

His cousin won’t strike the older man—no one in their family of misfits would, it’d be akin to disrespecting the family itself to try. Instead, he follows along with dragging feet as Makarov walks up to a stool bolted to the ground in between two workbenches. Two feet above the stool, just high enough for the old man to reach, is a small black metal cabinet with a password lock. Everyone in the Fairy Tail crew knows what it is...they’ve all had their keys taken away more than once. 

The Grounding Box, Natsu shakes his head returning back to his task at hand. I’m just lucky Gramps hasn’t taken my keys in more than a few months. It is well known that if Gramps puts the keys in the box they’re not coming out for a week or more depending on how bad the crime was. A day late to work is nothing but a three-day offense. Getting arrested? A week at least. 

“Damn,” Natsu glances up, finding Gray leaning over the fender to look at his work. “Gramps really hasn’t let up has he?” It’s not so much of a question as a statement but Natsu shakes his head anyway. 

Tightening the last part, he stands up straight, motioning Gray away from the side before pulling the hood closed. “I wouldn’t be worried about that. I’d be more worried about the fact the season starts tonight and Metalhead just missed out on his chance to do a call out until next race.” Gray pauses for a moment then nods, conceding the point.

“I’ll give you that.” And he grins, extending a grease-covered hand. “First to finish off the next order gets to prank the poor bastard?”

Natsu grins in return, shaking Gray’s hand with a grease-covered hand of his own. “You’re on ya damn Ice Prick.”


	2. Cheats and Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first race of the season is upon the crew and tensions are running high. What could possibly go wrong??

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DP: *hums walking down hall* *hears groan*  
> Grizz: Fuck me, I'm never gonna get this done.  
> DP: *grins* Hey Grizz  
> Grizz: What Deadpool?  
> DP: Where did you come from?  
> Grizz: What?  
> DP: Where did you go?  
> Grizz: *groans* Don't you dare.  
> DP: Where did you come from Cotton Eye Joe? *takes off down hallway*  
> Grizz: *chases after Deadpool* Damnit ya dirty rat eating munge bucket bastard. Get back here!  
> Rae: *cackling can be heard coming from the attic*

_ The ground shakes, the tremor of the nearby cars sending added adrenaline speeding through her bones. It’s a familiar exciting sensation but at the same time...knowing she’ll soon be shaking the earth under her tires like the racers she’s watched since she and Natsu were ten is even more thrilling. The blonde leans against the passenger side door of the dark red 1980’s Chevrolet Camaro as she watches several of the older more experienced racers _ — _ some of which she’s watched run for several years now _ — _ line up at the starting line marked by the neon green traffic cones.  _

 

_ “I'm telling you, Gray, Phoenix Grave is gonna smear Scarmiglione across the road.” Picking up on the salmon-haired teen’s huff, Lucy turns half an ear and an eye across the hood to both boys. She and Natsu are supposed to race in the last two Free For Alls but since that won’t be for some time yet, all four of them have taken a lucky position near the starting line _ — _ in her opinion the best place to get an adrenaline rush watching the racers attempt to psych each other out. _

 

_ If anyone were to ask her, she’d say the tremor in her bones is just from the bass blasting through the stereo or the cars rumbling in their positions but...if she were to admit it to herself, the butterflies in her stomach are from worry and excitement. Excitement, that  _ finally,  _ six years after experiencing her first street race she’s able to participate herself and the worry…  _

 

_ A strong arm lands on her shoulder and she looks over to find her best friend and sister figure smiling softly at her. “Don’t worry, Lucy.” Erza murmurs, pulling the blonde in for a one-armed hug. “You’ll do fine. Out of the four of us, you’re one of the best.” If the smile Lucy gives the redhead in return is a bit smaller than her usual excited ones Erza says nothing of it, only giving her a tight squeeze before letting go and rounding the front of the car. _

 

_ The redhead has every right to be confident, being a year older than Lucy and the boys she’s had several chances to participate in races; easily earning herself the title of Titania, the hardest hitting and youngest racer on the circuit. The many dents, dings, scratches, and repaintings Lucy’s mother has paid for attesting to the fact very loudly and with pride. _

 

_ Taking a deep breath, Lucy leans back into the door, turning just in time to watch Gray get in Natsu’s face, his normally calm expression stormy. “And  _ I’m  _ telling you Scarmiglione is gonna rip Phoenix Grave a new one.” Lucy giggles, relaxing at the familiar sight of the two arguing. Even if Natsu turned sixteen just three weeks before and received his car, the blonde is happy he hasn’t let it go to his head so much that he’d rub it in Gray’s face unnecessarily. With the raven-haired boy’s birthday being in December, he won’t get to participate until the next spring when the season starts up again. So it’s a relief to her to know that there would be no feelings of jealousy or anger besides the typical play between her friends.  _

 

_ It’s at this point Erza steps in, forcefully separating the duo and glaring at each one in turn. The cars at her back take off, drowning out what the redhead says to the boys but to the blonde, it’s pretty easy to guess from their suddenly terrified expressions. As she turns back around to look at the screen displayed on the bed of the Ford 250 on the opposite side of the starting line her eyes pass over her own 1981 Ford Mustang. She nearly continues on before something registers and she looks back, frowning in confusion at her car. “What the _ — _?” A yell makes her jump, looking over to find Natsu and Gray watching the massive television screen, elbowing each other in the ribs. Deciding the shadows had simply been tricking her, Lucy turns back to the screen as well. She’s just as curious to see what the age-old rivalry will bring about tonight as her friends are. _

 

**_XxX_ **

 

_ Even after the adrenalin has run out, excitement still thumps in his bones from placing second in his race. The salmon-haired teen can’t stop grinning and now that his best friend is off on her first race, Natsu doubts the joy will fade for some time. That is until gasps echo among the crowd. His attention snapping back to the TV screen he feels his blood run cold at the feed coming from the drones tracking the race. _

 

_ The midnight blue Ford Mustang he’d recognize anywhere rapidly losing ground from where she’d been leading the other three racers by five blocks and a couple of underpasses. One by one the racers catch up, passing her by and Natsu feels anger burn as embers in his gut. He and Gray had personally checked the cars over with his father and Uncle Metalicana that afternoon, there was absolutely no possible way she could be losing speed like that.  _ Unless…  _ worried by the thought coming to his mind he turns away from the screen, walking back to where his car is parked and where her’s had been parked up until she’d been called to the starting line. _

 

_ In the gravel lit by a nearby car’s headlights, he finds what he’d been afraid of. Kneeling down beside the puddle his nose immediately tells him is gas he frowns, his mind going through the possibilities of what might’ve happened. _

 

_ “Looks like Bora’s done it again.” _

 

_ “Aye, the poor bastard never even knew what hit ‘em.” Looking up at the sound of voices he finds a couple of Hound Holy spectators _ — _ easily recognizable by the badges they wear sewn onto their coats of a five-clawed paw print _ — _ standing at the edge of the crowd watching the screen with an intent focus. Curious, Natsu rises from his crouch and walks over, tapping one of them on the shoulder. _

 

_ The one on his left, a scrawny dude just a couple inches taller than his shoulder turns to him, frowning in annoyance. “What do ya want, kid? We’re busy.” More than used to brisk responses from his Uncles when they’ve gone too far into a bottle, Natsu brushes off the tone. _

 

_ “This guy Bora,” He starts, making sure to keep his tone low and confident. “What do you know of him?” _

 

_ “The rat bastard Bora?” The guy on his right asks, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. “That Bora?” Natsu’s not too sure how many other Boras there could be if they’re asking for a specific one so he just nods. Both Hounds share a look and the guy on the right scowls, crossing his bulked arms across his chest in a  way that has his white t-shirt stretching grotesquely. “He’s nothing but a liar and a cheat. He used to be part of that sex-trafficking ring, Titan’s Nose I think it was called, up until it got busted ‘bout a year back. Now, when he’s not racing and pulling bets he goes around loan sharking and scamming any poor bastard he can get his hands on. Everyone who’s anyone in the racing circles knows not to let him within twenty feet of their car.” _

 

_ The one on the left huffs, scowling at the screen. “Bastard will do anything to a car to make sure the bets are in his favor in a race. Heard there were a few good bets on that new Fairy Tail racer making bank but if Bora’s got to ‘em then it’s a good thing I didn’t place my money on ‘em.” _

 

_ With that, both men get to talking to one another about some other subject and Natsu slips away, the embers of anger in his gut growing to a large flame he plans to shove down a certain person’s throat once he finds them. For now, he slips through the crowd with an ease born of many years picking pockets on the street until he finds Erza and Gray standing where he’d left them in front of the screen. He glances up, finding the drones have moved on from where Lucy had stalled to the three cars remaining in the race.  _

 

_ On the right-hand side of the screen a name pops up in second place and he elbows Gray, almost immediately catching the raven-haired fifteen-year-old’s attention. However, instead of allowing the popsicle to snap a retort that would most likely lead to a brawl, he tilts his head in the direction  _ away  _ from Erza. It’s the only way he can discuss the matter with his brother and get away with their choice of action before the redhead can step in and stop them. _

 

_ When he sees his brother’s eyes light up in understanding he slips back into the crowd, off into a back corner in the shadow of one of the concrete support beams holding up the bridge over their heads. “You know what happened?” At the murmur, he turns to look at Gray and the teen’s eyes harden with his own anger. “Right. Who and why?” _

 

_ Natsu huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. The scales tattooed along his arm itching as they’re prone to do when he’s angry. “Overheard a couple Hounds talking. Apparently, there’s this rat bastard named Bora who’s known for cheating. He’ll do just about anything to win a bet and that means messing with someone’s wheels.” When he realizes he’s reaching up to scratch at the nearly healed symbol of their crew tattooed on his shoulder _ — _ even if he’s wearing a jacket _ — _ he stops and lets his hand drop, turning to meet Gray’s eyes. “Found a puddle of gas where she parked. The jackass cut her fuel line.” _

 

_ “So what do you wanna do?” Already they can hear the sounds of the engines getting closer, signaling the end of the race. Natsu grins, the expression allowing his family’s signature pronounced incisors to flash in the light of a car’s headlights. Gray, realizing what his plan entails, grins in return before they both leave the shadows and return to Erza. _

 

_ Erza, thankfully, only casts them a wary glance before looking up the street to the turn signaling the home stretch of the race. With her attention elsewhere he and Gray split up, Natsu wandering closer to where the crowd is centered. Only about a minute later the car in first place rounds the turn, racing down the home stretch. A couple seconds behind it, the car the salmon-haired teen recognizes as Bora’s rounds the turn. Lowkey he waves two fingers at his brother and holds his position, crossing his arms over his chest again to keep from clenching his fists hard enough for his nails to cut into his palms _ — _ a dangerous habit he’s gotten into when angered. _

 

_ Phoenix Grave crosses the finish line first, drifting into a sharp sixty-degree turn. Any other night he’d be among the crowd, cheering that his favorite racers have won again, but tonight… the second car crosses the finish line at a much slower speed then he’d been racing down the road. When the car comes to a stop and the door opens, allowing a man in his mid-twenties to step out, Natsu begins his approach, using his pickpocketing stride to slip through. _

 

_ The man, from what he can tell, is nothing much different from any other overconfident arrogant bastard out there. His raven-hair falling off to the left to cover the eye while a small black tattoo is visible above his right eye. He wears nothing more than a white button-up shirt out of place for an event like this and a pair of red jeans to Natsu just look worse than his brother’s own odd habit of completely stripping when he’s stressed. It’s his expression though, that really gets Natsu. One speaking of smug confidence as if he didn’t just place second but is sitting in the winner’s circle instead. _

 

_ Thoroughly pissed off by the man’s smug arrogance he finally slips within ten feet of the bastard, his eyes positively alit with righteous anger. “Bora!” He barks, stunning the people around him enough for them to move out of his way. Bora turns to him, his smile absolutely egotistical. _

 

_ “Yes, how may I help you?” His words ooze with his complacent attitude and Natsu cracks his knuckles, glaring at the man. If he’s really this much of a pompous asshole, the teen is curious to see just how long it’ll take before he tries to turn tail and run... _ Not that he’ll get far.  _ Catching sight of his brother having slunk around the back side of the car, he’d grin if he didn’t want to get his point across. _

 

_ His onyx eyes burrow into the cheating bastard. “You messed with the wrong people when you sliced my girl’s fuel line. I wonder how black and blue you’ll have to be when you finally apologize.” _

 

_ Bora scoffs, waving a hand through the air as if waving away his threats. “Nonsense, as if some punk like you could do something to the likes of me. What happened to that riffraff was nothing like what could’ve happened.” Natsu pauses, his eyes narrowing at the barely veiled threat. His mind works through a plan of action and he takes his jacket off, revealing his crimson crew symbol to the gathering crowd. He hadn’t run as Fairy Tail in his first race simply because he’d wanted to relish in the adrenaline of good competition, now though... _

 

_ Almost right away whisperings begin to spread. He knows that everyone in the crowd has heard of the ruthlessness Gramps has used to reign in Magnolia at least once. The very same ruthlessness he and Gray utilize when they need to deliver an important message _ —s _ omething that could be said for here and now. _

 

_ “That riff-raff,” Natsu starts, his voice  _ deadly  _ calm. “Is a part of my crew. Maybe you’ve heard of us, maybe you haven’t but you have three seconds to choose between apologizing to her or never being able to walk again before I  _ make  _ you remember our name for the rest of your miserable life.”  _

 

_ The stuck-up bastard seems to at least begin to understand the trouble he’s in. He chuckles non-humorously, his eyes widening just the slightest. “Now, now, surely you’re over exaggerating things here.” Natsu tilts his head far enough for his neck to crack and even as he takes a step forward Bora retreats a step, finally aware of the solid wall of pale muscle blocking his escape route. His eyes begin darting from person to person, possibly looking for help but then again after hearing all he has about the bastard Natsu’s sure that he’s most likely looking for other possible escape routes. When Natsu takes another slow, measured step Bora coughs. “Look, I’ll split the bet profits with you, sixty/forty and I won’t ever mess with you again.” _

 

_ The salmon-haired teen chuckles, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be taking your profits without your help. As for ever messing with us again,” He launches a right hook that snaps across the man’s jaw sending him flying into the car’s window. While his right hook can _ — _ and has _ — _ kill a man he knows he didn’t put enough strength into the hit to do much more damage then have the man seeing stars. Walking forward, Natsu pulls Bora up by his shirt and slams the still dazed man’s head against the roof of the car. Again. And again. And again. After the fifth time when Natsu determines that the shape of Bora’s nose has been permanently rearranged he turns him around, arching an eyebrow. “You gonna apologize to my girl for slicing her fuel line?” _

 

_ When Bora gurgles something, Natsu pulls him up, over his shoulder, and slams him down on the asphalt hard enough for the man to bounce. He grins, almost childishly if it weren’t for the bloody edge. “I’m sorry, I’m just a punk, what was that you said?” Slowly, the cheat rolls over, spitting out a glob of blood and what looks like a tooth. When he gets to his hands and knees, Natsu kicks him in the gut causing to man to fall back over on his back. “You’re gonna have to speak a little louder.” _

 

_ Kicking him once more, Natsu picks him up as if he were no more than a human-sized doll and throws him at Gray. His brother catches the man, his expression revealing less than that of a stone statue’s. The teen knows, to the crowd, they are a shocking sight. Two teens, no more than fifteen and sixteen brutally beating a man because he’d cheated them of a race. But to him, it’s more than that. When they’d started the crew, they’d known in order to protect their own they’d have to be willing to do the worst. This arrogant bastard who’d thought it wise to cheat them is only an example, to mess with one would bring the wrath of the entire crew down on them. _

 

_ He swings an undercut at the man’s rib cage and under the blow, he feels a couple ribs give way causing the man to cry out. Arching an eyebrow, Natsu backs up.  _ Thought he could take more,  _ unsatisfied with the thought he wants to go back in for more but apparently his observation is on the money. Bora shakes his head, turning a face drenched in blood up to the teen. _

 

_ “I-I give. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never should’ve cut her gas line. I-I won’t ever mess with Fairy Tail again.”  _

 

_ It’s the apology he wants, but he’s not the one who needs to hear it. Scowling at the pathetic piece of shit now slumped against the ground, Natsu picks him up by his shirt and turns around, throwing him at the ground near the front of the car. “Now see, that’s what I wanted to hear but,” He squats, tilting his head at the man trying to see through the blood in his eyes. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to. She is.” He points off to his left, the gathered crowd only now noticing Lucy and Erza standing near the edge and rapidly back away leaving both in plain sight.  _

 

_ Lucy, thankfully, isn’t injured in any way he can see. From his glance, he can tell she’s more angry than anything, though, that anger appears to be rapidly bleeding away in light of his handling of the cheat. Bora, following the direction of his finger, quickly gets on his hands and knees, bending his head so that it touches the asphalt. _

 

_ “Please, I’m sorry. I-I won’t ever mess with you, your car, or Fairy Tail so long as I live, just please don’t kill me.” When Lucy smiles that too sweet smile, Natsu stands up, walking over to where his brother holds his jacket in one hand and the raven-haired teen’s own shirt he’d taken off before appearing within the crowd. He knows when that smile comes into play it’s best to stay out of the way until she’s gotten her revenge.  _

 

_ The blonde walks closer until she’s within reach then...she pulls her foot back, punting Bora hard enough he hits the side of his car, sliding to the ground unconscious. With that, she huffs, walking over to Natsu. It’s only when she’s within arm’s reach that he sees the exhaustion sitting heavily within her eyes. His grin softens and he hugs her, more than happy she’s safe. _

 

_ Keeping his arm around her waist, he gently nudges her in the direction of their cars. “Come on.” Nodding slightly, Lucy turns so they are walking side by side, Natsu moving his arm to her shoulder.  _

 

_ As they get closer to the cars, Natsu can pick up bits of the conversation Erza is having with someone on the phone. “...ank you… licana.”  She throws a tired grin toward the trio as she hangs up the phone. “Metalicana will be here soon to pick up Lucy's car. You three should head back to the Garage and go to bed. I shall wait here.”  _

 

_ Natsu is too exhausted to argue. Glancing over his shoulder, Gray looks just as exhausted. Glancing at Lucy he sees she's getting ready to argue, no matter how tired she may be. He cuts her off before she can though, turning her toward his car. “Come on Luce. We'll crash at my place. We can raid the kitchen.” His eyes grow distant and his mouth waters at the thought of food. He would rather go back to the Garage, but they hadn't gone grocery shopping and Gramps won't do it.  _

 

_ Lucy hesitates a moment before caving in. The thought of food and a comfortable bed too tempting to the young teen. The trio climb into their cars and roar out of the area, Natsu grinning as he spots Metalicana jumping down from the driver seat of a tow truck. No doubt in his mind his Uncle hotwired the thing. Glancing over at his passenger, a soft smile graces his lips when he finds Lucy slumped in her seat already passed out. _

 

**_XxX_ **

 

So used to the sound of something slamming against the concrete floor or metal clanging against metal Natsu doesn’t notice it at first. Not until he feels a familiar bony elbow jab him in his back. He huffs, his wrench stuck between a gas line and the carburetor. “What, Icicle? I’ve nearly got this bolt tight.”

 

“Gramps is out.” Hearing those word he twists the wrench again to finish tightening the bolt and worms his way back out from under the hood, instinct reminding him to duck his head at the last moment to avoid the lock on the hood. Setting the wrench on the edge of the hood, he turns around to find Makarov standing at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the main office.

 

The layout of the build, Natsu knows, confuses most people at first what with the main office and the lobby for customers being two separate buildings but after Gramps had explained the blueprints to them it had made better sense—particularly with the shadier side of the crew being dealt with in the main office as well. The office in question sits at the halfway point of the warehouse, a set of steps hidden by the far wall leading up to the room stretching the width of the building. It also happens to be the dividing point between the Living Quarters and the garage itself with no one but employees and family friends being allowed on the other side. Though only a select few are allowed to enter or leave the office at any point in time, those being the office assistants themselves.

 

The lobby, on the other hand, is set outside as its own building with a small front desk for an office assistant to ring the garage when a customer comes in and several other commodities like television for the customers to keep occupied while their cars are being fixed. None of the important papers for either side of the business are kept there so they don’t have to worry about anyone snooping around.

 

Pushing his thoughts away, he returns his focus to Gramps in time to catch, “...ack it up. Finish the car you’re on than meet in the living room.” Natsu shares a look with Gray and they grin, turning back to the Dodge they’d been working on. The work itself is finished, the salmon-haired mechanic having just wrapped it up, so while Gray grabs the tools off the frame, he grabs the oil rags, throwing them into the basket at the edge of their bench. 

 

After the frame of the car is clear, Natsu shuts the hood and walks over to the bench, handing Gray the keys while he goes about setting his tools in order for the next Monday. They’d both learned long before dividing the work and doing the same things at different times would avoid them getting in trouble with Gramps when it comes to fights at work.  _ Besides, no one wants to miss the races tonight.  _ He smirks at the thought, hanging his wrenches back up on the wall when he hears one of the other garage doors begin to close. 

 

“Yo, Natsu!” At the sound of his name, he looks up, finding a grease-covered Elfman walking over. From what appears to be oil in the giant’s usually white hair and the finger swipes of grease going across his face it would appear one of the cars he’d been working had sprung a leak. And a massive one if he were to judge by the amount on the man’s coveralls. 

 

The salmon-haired mechanic arches an eyebrow, tossing a clean rag from the stack on his bench at him. “What’d you do? Go swimming in oil?” 

 

Catching the rag, Elfman chuckles, more of a sound similar to thunder deep in his chest then actual laughter. “Nah, wasn’t watching what I doing and knocked over the oil pan.” Natsu nods, turning back to his bench. He and every other mechanic in the garage can relate, they’ve all been careless at least once. The last time it’d happened to him, he’d had to take three showers before his hair finally turned pink and even then it looked closer to rose then salmon for another month. 

 

“Anyway, whatcha need, Elf?” He knows the giant wouldn’t approach him otherwise, his favoring in the crew leaning toward Laxus and his gaggle instead of Natsu and his friends. In other words, they typically don’t speak unless one needs something from the other—or a good brawl, but that’s a big no during work hours. 

 

“I wanted to ask if you know where we’re going tonight. I was gonna ask Erza but she’s up in the office talking to Gramps and Lucy and the other painters are holed up in their shop for another hour.” Natsu chuckles at that. The painters take their work  _ very  _ seriously, even going as far as locking the doors to the shop when they’re focused and don’t want to be interrupted. On these occasions they’ll tape a note to the door with an estimate of the time they’ll be finished.

 

When he’s sure his bench is straight for next week, he turns back around, leaning against the lacquered wood to wait for his partner to return. “Erza did slam them with three high-quality orders today and you know how Reed is with his detailing.” Then he arches an eyebrow. “How do you not know where we’re going tonight? I thought it would’ve been broadcast through the whole crew already.” In truth he knows why the giant came to him; He, Lucy, Erza, the popsicle, and Gramps being the first to find out the location of the races from the race coordinators themselves. Still...once they find out it doesn’t take too long before the information hits the rest of the crew so he’s curious as to why the big man hasn’t found out yet.

 

Elfman shrugs, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the lift on the opposite side of the garage. Gajeel’s. Natsu chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t say I blame ya if Metalhead wouldn’t tell ya. He’s still pissed he got his car taken away.” And wouldn’t he know it, he’s been listening to the metal studded boots stomping around the garage all day. Turning his head up to look at the mountain of a man in the eye, his grin darkens. “We’re heading to Hargeon.”

 

Comprehension dawns in steel gray eyes and Elfman laughs, the sound echoing across the garage and gaining some attention before they realize who it is and return to their own work. When the giant finally calms down, he grins, slapping Natsu’s shoulder. “I look forward to your race. You’ve been kicking the bastard’s ass faster and faster each year.” With that he throws the dirty rag in the bin, turning away with a wave at the pinkett. “Thanks, Natsu.” 

 

Natsu shakes his head and finishes up his bench, wrapping up just in time to find Gray passing through the garage door with both hands in his pockets. In tandem, they approach opposite sides of the door, untying the chains from twin hooks bolted to the wall. Wrapping one side of the chain around his fist, Natsu glances over at Gray. When he receives a nod in return he tugs on the chain, feeling the slack lessen as the locking mechanism in the door rollers comes loose. Before it can gain enough speed to take his arm, however, Gray’s pulling on the opposite chain, slowing it’s momentum and allowing the door to come down at a more sedate pace. Once it hits the ground, both men let go of the chains.

 

Rubbing his arm to rub away the all too familiar marks the chain leaves behind, Natsu scowls. “You’d think Gramps would just upgrade the doors to electronic already.” 

 

His raven-haired partner rolls his eyes, “He already said he would after this season. Don’t you remember the meeting we had like a month back about it?” When Gray walks over to clean up his bench, the salmon-haired mechanic follows content to wait a little while before entering the living quarters. At his question, though, Natsu looks up at the ceiling in thought.

 

_ There was the meeting about the gas going missing from the trucks but that was Metalhead and his henchmen racing the backroads. Then there was the fight between Elfman and Evergreen. Elf’s hair stayed bright green for nearly two weeks.  _ He snickers at the memory of the fight before his face scrunches in focus again.  _ A month. A month. What the hell happened a month ago to need a meeting?  _ Almost as soon as the question crosses his mind he facepalms, groaning in annoyance.  _ Right, the Coordinators released the information for the first race. Still…  _ He shakes his head, looking back at his fellow mechanic. “Nope, don’t remember nothing about that.”

 

Gray sighs, throwing the last of the used oil rags in the bin to be cleaned over the weekend. “Of course ya don’t. As soon as you heard Hargeon you clocked out faster than Alzack and Bisca clock in for shooting practice. Frankly, I’m surprised you even remember the date and time.”

 

“Shows what you know,” Natsu huffs as he leans against the bench. “I can pay attention when I want.”

 

**_XxX_ **

 

Unconsciously Makarov flips over the keys in his hand, enjoying the sound they make as they collide against one another. He has no doubt the brats would behave if he were to leave  _ this  _ set of keys within their reach but well… _ Better safe than sorry,  _ he sighs watching his grandson trip a running Natsu into one of the couches below. When Natsu gets back up and rushes at Laxus, Makarov shakes his head.  _ No, it’s best kept away from them for a little while longer at least. _

 

His eyes wander over the twenty odd people filling in the couches or the odd chair, generally chatting between themselves even if some of them have noticed him already. The keys flip again, worn metal pressing into the palm of his hand. His heart swells with pride watching those who others would call misfits act like a family. From Mirajane and her sister sitting among the gaggle of girls to the groups of boys arguing and discussing subjects the old man himself has no idea of. He’d start the meeting already if it weren’t for the fact the painters are stilled holed up in their shop.  _ Speaking of…  _ He glances at his watch, settling to sit on the railing when he confirms there’s still some time to wait. For now, though, he’s content just watching the brats he considers his children get along.

 

Fifteen minutes later he’s thoroughly engrossed in betting against himself which of the brats are to win the arm wrestling contest. He’s split fifty-fifty between Wendy and Romeo, whether either of the teens will gain ground over the other when the familiar sound of a metal door slamming shut reaches his ears. He and just about every other person present looks up at the same time to find the painters standing there speckled with white paint and looking like they’ve run a marathon.  _ Paint explosion,  _ He muses with just the slightest hint of amusement.  _ And a rather large one if I’m judging by Reedus’ expression.  _ With the ginger-haired portly painter one of the calmest and quietest among the entire crew, it takes quite a bit to anger the man. Explosions or gear malfunctioning being at the top of that list. 

 

“All right, brats, that’s enough!” Nearly at once all eyes are on him and the room goes quiet. Seeing the anger practically rolling off the painter in waves Makarov sighs and stands up looking for the head of blonde hair among the bunch. When he finds her he has to take a second look, shocked by the sheer  _ amount  _ of paint drenching her coveralls. “What happened?”

 

Lucy huffs, taking a pair of paint-stained gloves from her back pocket and waves them at him. “What happened? I’ll tell you what happened! Whoever the fucker was that spilled soda on the generator and didn’t bother to tell anyone is gonna get their ass kicked by me personally! We lost three hours trying to get it fixed and now most of us are gonna have to burn up the weekend to redo the orders!”

 

Movement catches his eye and Makarov looks down to find Natsu slipping through the crowd. “It can’t be that bad can it, Luce?” While he can’t see the mechanic’s expression from where he stands it doesn’t take a stretch of the imagination to know Natsu’s more worried about Lucy’s sanity then the cars.  _ And he says he’s not in love with her.  _ Biting back a chuckle at the thought he finds Lucy shaking her head.

 

“It’s worse.  _ Somehow  _ the generator created a reverse vacuum so now not only is there paint in the hoses but it’s also in the motor itself and don’t even get me started on what happened to the Charger!” It doesn’t escape his notice how the mechanics in the crew look at each other in confusion. He can just about read their minds with all the questions they have for the painters. “Gramps!” When he hears his nickname he looks up, not realizing he’d tuned Lucy out until now. He finds Lucy pointing a glove in Mirajane’s direction. “She’s got a list of everything broken that we need replaced. And a different list for the stuff we need by tomorrow to fix the Charger and get the rest of the orders back on track.”

 

He’d laugh at her for giving him orders if it weren’t for a very small fact only a handful of people within the crew know. So, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and waits for her to finish before nodding in agreement. “Very well, Mirajane?” Finding the white-haired woman is already set to go out is no surprise to him. As his main assistant for keeping the Garage up and going the woman is very adept at knowing what needs to be done even before he does.

 

She giggles in that ever knowing way, waving a piece of paper he assumes to be the list of requirements. “Already on it, Sir, but if you don’t mind I’d like to take a couple people with me to get some of the bits and pieces.”

 

“Very well,” Makarov nods, looking at the others. “Three people who weren’t planning on going to Hargeon are to go with Mirajane and help her get the parts for the Painting Department.” When no one speaks up right away he arches an eyebrow. “If no one volunteers I will be forced to pick, and if I pick you’re not going to Hargeon even if you were planning on participating.” Almost immediately hands and voices rise. He looks over the faces present and comes to a decision. “Max, Nab and Vijeeter, you go with Mirajane.” The three aforementioned members meekly nod their heads, terrified of doing any kind of errand with the She-Demon. 

 

After the small group leaves, Makarov turns back to the remaining crew. He pulls the keys from earlier out of his pocket and opens the D-ring clip, separating the mass of keys into two sets, each with a truck key and a set of two other keys. He holds these out, catching the crew’s attention. “Right, now that everyone is here we can begin. As you see, I have the key sets within my hands.” He jingles the one in his right. “Laxus, you’ll be taking the Dodge. Take your squad and get it hooked up. The tools and straps from last season should still be in the trailer but if they’re not you know where the extras are.” With that he tosses the keys down to the blonde, the mechanic catching them with a nod. After seeing the quiet response Makarov turns to look for the man he’d decided to drive the second truck for tonight’s events. “Elfman!”

 

The giant of a man looks up at him in shock. After the crash last summer, Makarov can understand why. He is, after all, the one who forbade the man from manning a truck again in the first place. “Yeah, Gramps?”

 

Makarov grins, tossing the keys to him. “You’ve got the Chevy. I’m giving you a second chance. Ruin it and the only way you’re getting your hands on a steering wheel is during work. Understood?”

 

“Aye Sir!” Elfman grins. “I’ll show you how much of a man I can be!”

 

Deciding to ignore the last part, he looks across the crowd, finding the last person he knows they’ll need for the truck crews. “Gajeel will be your partner tonight. As we all know at least one person, I shall not name who,” He tunes out a loud cough that sounds like Gray’s name. “Will damage their car in tonight’s races. It is up to you as Haulers to keep the trailers and trucks in one piece so we can bring those cars home. Haulers are an integral part of our racing force and without you, it’d be that much harder to stay in peak racing form.” Makarov looks up, taking in the crew as an entirety. “This goes to all of you. It is not just one car or person that makes Fairy Tail one of the best crews out there. It takes all of us working together, racing our hardest to be at the top. What’s more, it takes a _family_ to be as strong and as fast as we are. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, Sir!”

 

“Aye, Sir!”

 

“You’re right, Gramps!”

 

Comforted and proud of the cheer that greets him, he allows their ruckus to calm down by itself before returning to the items left for their meeting. “Now the painters are quite a bit of a mess so while they get cleaned up, I suggest the rest of you take to your cars. If you’re not racing, see what you can do to help those who plan on participating or to help the Haulers. The trailers haven’t seen much TLC this year besides a couple hours yesterday so it would do to see if anything else needs to be done. After the painters get cleaned up we’ll head out to Hargeon!” There was a roaring cheer before everyone split up to do whatever they needed to do before heading out to the races. 

 

**XxX**

 

Satisfied everything’s in order, Natsu steps away from under the hood of his Accura. Wiping the sweat off his brow he carefully unhooks the supporting rod from the hood and closes it, looking to his left where Lucy is just finishing up her final check over. All across the parking lot cars of different kinds are spread out, some with their hoods up and the drivers doing last minutes checks or others, like his own, with their hoods down meaning the final check has been finished.

 

The final check is one of the rules Makarov has laid down for any and all racers under his Garage and while Natsu doesn’t quite agree with it he can see the reason for it. Specifically, after one race had one of their own being stuck in the hospital for a month after a faulty gas line had literally blown up in his face.  _ Jellal hasn’t been the same since,  _ Natsu quietly wonders walking over to the blonde and her midnight blue Honda. 

 

“How’s it looking?” He asks, ignoring the fluid cursing he hears coming from the direction of the Chevrolet where they’re  _ still  _ trying to hook up the car trailer. He’d known the metal-headed mechanic had a large vocabulary of the foulest words known to man but  _ damn. _

 

Lucy grins, reaching up to close the hood. “Like a dream. My baby girl is ready to kick every tailpipe that’ll be there and then some.” She turns around, crossing her arms over her white and gold blouse as she leans against the hood. “But, I should be asking you the same. Ready to pound Bora’s head into the gravel again?”

 

Natsu rolls his eyes, leaning against the hood with her to watch the ongoing comedy show.  _ One time, I did that one time and now everybody acts like I’ll do it again.  _ He glances at the blonde out of the corner of his eye, that same flame of protectiveness burning in his gut.  _ I doubt he will, I mean it’s been five years already since that night. He’s done nothing yet, but if he does… Yeah, yeah I definitely would grind his face into the asphalt again.  _ “Don’t you think he gets the message from me making him eat my dust every year?”

 

A loud clang interrupts her before she can respond and he turns his eyes back over to the trailer to find it finally hooked up to the truck. A cheer in the form of a loud roar confirms his thoughts and he finds Gajeel standing on the bed of the truck looking like he’d just won the award for most piercings on the human body. Snorting at the comparison, Natsu stands up, turning back to Lucy. “I’ll hit you up on the com. I’m gonna go hunt down Cana and see if I can’t psych Ice-for-brains out.”

 

His blonde giggles, pushing at him gently. “You idiot. Don’t go getting into a fight before you get there. I’m gonna go see what I can do to help Erza. Apparently, she’s done some upgrading over the winter and I wanna see what she did.”

 

That has his attention. 

 

“I thought you always help her with her upgrades?” Or at least as far as he knows, she’s helped the redhead with just about every upgrade and vice versa since Lucy first got her mother’s mustang when she turned sixteen. To hear Erza’s done upgrading without Lucy is like a well-oiled engine without oil—it just  _ doesn’t  _ happen.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Apparently it’s something she and Jellal have been working on for the last year. She wants to surprise everyone with it tonight but I want to see if I can’t get a sneak peek and possibly tweak it. You know how she is about missing the small things.”

 

“And how you as a painter catch them.” He finishes and grins. “Yeah, yeah. You go do that. I’ve got a roll burning my back pocket on whether the pervert blows his engine tonight.” 

 

His statement has the blonde huffing and glaring at him. “You realize that if he hears you’re betting against him again he’s gonna do worse to your car then just paint it pink, right?”

 

“Yup.” With that he turns away, heading across the parking lot in the direction of the brunette he can see sitting on the tail bed of the Dodge, her cronies sitting alongside her. While a penchant for drinking drains her paycheck faster then he can say ‘drunkard’, Natsu also knows that one Cana Alberona is the only bookie within a hundred miles able to guess a bet to within the dollar and be right about it. 

 

_ That and she has no idea of the word humility.  _ He hums, approaching the tow hitch where said woman’s strap on sandals hang off the tailgate. As usual, he finds her with a bottle of beer in one hand and a small black book in the other. In the thong of her bikini top a thick wad of cash peeks out from the other bets she’s already collected. She grins, bringing her feet in so she can lean down. 

 

“Yo, Natsu. Come to bet against Gray again?” He’ll be the first to admit the brunette’s tolerance is through the roof. Most of the crew, in fact, have seen first hand that Cana can go through several packs of beer within a day and not be affected.

 

He grins, reaching into his back pocket for the wad of bills he’d been storing over the last month for just this day. “You know it, Cana. The usual on the stripper and add a couple more on Erza.” That gets her attention. 

 

Leaning back, Cana looks him over with a sharp eye and begins to cackle. Her cronies, sitting on the wheel wells behind her are immediately alert. Wakaba, his dirty blond hair slicked back and a fat cigar on his lips, has that look of laid back intrigue that Natsu has come to associate with the older man having already touched the smoke stash the trio keep hidden in the Living Quarters. While it’s not Natsu’s own choice of smokes he can count more than a few of the crew who’ll use it when they get into a partying mood.

 

On the other side of Cana, the other Croney, Macao barely looks intrigued at all, but after having known the older man for enough years Natsu can see the man’s curiosity clear in his eyes. With graying blue hair clipped short and a blue mustache the miniature copy of Gramps’ own, Natsu knows anyone who didn’t know the man would assume he’d be better off leading the crew instead of following a drunkard bookie and they’d be right. The man has. In the past, while Makarov has left the city to take care of certain business meetings he’s left the handling of the crew to the croney, along with the secret of who actually holds the reins in the crew. Any other time Macao is just as laid back as Wakaba, content with sitting back and just talking about the olden days while Natsu and the remainder of the crew have their fun.

 

_ What was it he’d said that day?  _ The mechanic quietly wonders as Macao bows his head in greeting.  _ ‘Let the youngins have their fun trying to blow themselves up?’  _ He chuckles under his breath, looking back at Cana to find her finally calming down.  _ Yeah, that sounds about right.  _ And with the new concoctions they’re playing with between moonshine, nitrous, and gasoline he won’t be surprised when one of them do manage to make their car explode.

 

“What do you know and how do you know it?” The drunkard’s questions catch him off guard. He looks back at her, arching an eyebrow that only earns a wave of the beer bottle. She grins, leaning down enough for him to get a solid look of her very clear brown eyes. “You know something about Erza’s car set up. Now spill.”

 

Natsu rolls his eyes. “For the love of—Cana! I still have to grab my com from Levy so just mark me for my usual so I can go.” 

 

Cana frowns, grumbling as she takes a drag from her bottle. With an overrated sigh, she holds out a hand for the money. “Spoilsport. Always trying to ruin my fun.” After stuffing the bills into her top, she opens the black book, pulling a pencil he hadn’t noticed out of the spine. 

 

While she’s still grumbling his scowl turns into a knowing grin and he moves closer, leaning against the side of the truck. “Besides. What I know about Erza’s car means nothing compared to what you know about every car in this lot  _ and  _ of the other crews.” Absentmindedly she nods, still counting numbers in the book and, still grinning, he pulls away, nodding once to Macao and Wakaba as he does. Natsu doesn’t need to see it to know her pencil has stopped halfway through the number she’s been writing or her head has shot up, staring at his back in disbelief. Not when he can feel the bookie’s eyes on his back like two welding torches.

 

“Natsu Dragneel!” Her yell is loud enough to draw the attention of every pair of eyes in the parking lot—true—but as far he’s concerned he’s had more than enough fun to make up for not being able to bug the Ice Princess. Finding nearly everyone is finished with their final check he makes his way over to the periwinkle 2004 Honda S2000 sitting beside a Caterham R500. 

 

Even after having seen the car several times over the past few years it still marvels him how such an old man could be spry and active enough to even try to drive the go-cart looking type car. Making a note to ask how the old man got it, Natsu turns to the topless Honda. Sitting in the back seat is an open suitcase revealing a foam padded lining as well as thirty odd spaces cut into the foam. Of those spaces, only a handful remain occupied by what appears to be miniature hearing aids. Picking up the device he carefully affixes it around his right ear—the disc being perfectly hidden by the shell of his ear and his hair working well to hide the speaker from sight—before flicking a small switch set on the disc. Almost immediately his hearing is assaulted by the multitude of voices from across the parking lot that are otherwise faded by distance. 

 

With his com in place, he returns to his car, leaning against the hood and watching the others in the crew mingle while they wait. After maybe another fifteen minutes the final checks are finished, and the trailers are hitched and loaded with the tools and supplies they may need. 

 

_ All that’s left is... _ As if on cue, Gramps jumps up onto the back of the Chevrolet—Cana and her cronies having taken over the back of the Dodge with their coolers and whatnot—immediately garnering everyone’s attention as he climbs even higher into the roof of the cabin.  _ “Alright, listen up.” _ No one needs to move closer to hear him, the coms doing their job and allowing the entire crew to hear him clearly. 

 

_ “As you all know tonight is the first night of the race season. From what I’ve heard the crews that are going to be participating this year are going to be brutal. They will try their damnedest to knock you out of the running and claim a spot in the final race. You cannot allow them the opportunity. If Fairy Tail is going to win this year then you are going to have to race your hearts out. Push your cars to the limits, see how much they can give you and then try and push them past those limits. But I beg you for the love of the Gods, Do NOT melt your engines. If we return after tonight’s events and someone has a melted engine I’m putting them on city work for the next month.” _

 

Natsu can’t help it. He coughs, it coming out sounding a lot like Gray’s name and it evokes chuckles and quiet laughter from all over the parking lot. Even though Gramps looks amused he still scowls, crossing his arms over his chest.  _ “If your competitors are roughing you up while you’re out there do the same back, aesthetic damage is easy to fix. But don’t run through any walls, poles, buildings, bridge supports, you get the idea. Race smarter not harder. Now, who are we?” _

 

“Fairy Tail!”

 

Gramps sticks his pinky in his ear, acting as if he’s cleaning it out.  _ “I think my hearing is beginning to go in my old age. I asked, WHO ARE WE?” _

 

_ “ **FAIRY TAIL!** ”  _ Natsu cups his hands around his mouth, shouting with all his might just as the rest of his oddball family does and the sound echoes out over the water. Gramps stumbles backward a step, one hand over his heart and he smiles, big and wide for the entire crew to see. 

 

_ “That we are. Now it is time, brats. It’s time to remind the racing world why we are the fastest. Move out!”  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rae: Tis a fun thing indeed my friend *said in a nobleman's accent*  
> Grizz: *gasping for breath* Don't do this! Gods, my ribs hurt already.  
> Rae: *cackles madly and look at Deadpool* Think she'll survive?  
> Grizz: You didn't!  
> Rae: *laughs harder and struggles to breath*  
> Deadpool: *glances at Grizz* Hmm, hard to say. Shall we up the laughing gas?  
> Rae: *gives the nozzle a small twist* Should we release the flying unicorns?  
> Deadpool: Yes, lets. and see how blue she gets before she passes out!  
> Rae: *Opens the cages* Release the Rainbow!!!  
> Deadpool: Taste the Rainbow!


	3. Hargeon Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first race of the season and everyone has turned out to see who will rise in this years ranks and who will be squashed.

**Rae: *clears throat* Welcome back ladies, gents, and souls in between! I know it’s been awhile…. So we shall blame Deadpool on the wait.**

**DP: *squawks* Whoa whoa ho—**

**Grizz: *elbows Deadpool to shut him up* Now now, Wade. Just admit it. You were the one who was really dragging their feet on this.**

**DP: *gapes* But, Rae and you and...**

**Rae: *throws a glare at Deadpool* Hush. We had to actually cut this chapter because it was getting way too long. *glares at the chapter* Why did you have to be so long?**

**Grizz: *snorts* Because we are very much long winded writers, Wade never knows when to shut up, and face it Rae. This chapter required quite a bit of set up. Granted the action starts in the next half but Racer interactions is half the fun.**

**Rae: *sighs* I suppose so.**

**Grizz: *grins* Now, we’ll let y’all readers get to the fun stuff and Wade here, *pats Wade’s head like a puppy* will sign us… *stops, thinks, and grins* Actually, Rae and Wade will be there to sign us out.**

XXX

Speed of Freedom

Chapter 3

Hargeon Pt.1

Natsu isn’t surprised per se. To say he’s surprised the crew hasn’t mentioned a peep about what they know is to come is to say the fireworks haven’t gone off on the fourth of July when the sun is just hitting the horizon. It just takes time. Time which runs out when they’re about an hour out from the port city. Music is playing over the coms, judging by the heavy metal he’d wager Metal-Head had won out for the music choice for the quarter-hour when the music dims and a throat clearing comes over the line.

“So,” Natsu might be driving but that doesn’t mean he can’t divide his attention, especially on such an empty and barren road, to recognize the speaker as Jet. “I guess I’m gonna be the first to say that Gray—” Gray growls, cutting off Jet’s statement and Natsu can practically hear the leather on the Stripper’s steering wheel creak.

“You finish that statement, Jet, and you’ll see how fast I can pull this car over and beat your ass.”

Hearing a yelp the salmon-haired mechanic chuckles, leaning back in his seat to get ready for the upcoming fight. Five...four...three...two...Cue the techies.

As if on cue a quiet hum comes over the com. “If you want to be technical, that would be very hard to do unless you, Gray, were to crash your car into the truck. Not only would you be upset over the loss of your car but Gramps would be angry over his truck being destroyed and it would delay our arrival in Hargeon by about five or six hours, therefore, we would miss our chance to be counted in for the races and thus would have to wait for the next race where you most likely would either be grounded with no car or grounded and grounded to the city. Both are likely—”

“We get it, Romeo.” Gray huffs, once again cutting off the speaker.

“Look, all I’m saying is…” Natsu tunes out the rapidly growing chatter when he hears an engine rumble up beside his driver side door. Knowing there’s only a handful of people who aren’t afraid to pull such a maneuver with him, he looks over. And finds Lucy, one hand holding her wheel steady, motioning with the other in a chatterbox gesture and rolling her eyes.

Natsu chuckles, mouthing ‘what can you do?’ at her. He has to be careful about what he says since the coms are sensitive enough to pick up even a whisper. Luckily, the com doesn’t and he gets to watch the painter mimic someone walking up to another person and kicking them in the ass. That gets a louder laugh out of him, one that does get picked up the com going by the way it suddenly goes quiet.

There’s a roar from his passenger side door and he looks over to find Gray pulling up beside him, the raven-haired mechanic’s eyes squinted even more tightly. “What’s so funny, Oil-for brains?”

He grins, an elongated incisor catching on his bottom lip. “Oh, just the fact that you refuse to admit what every single one of us knows will happen tonight just like it has every opening season since we were eighteen.” It is, in fact, very true. Every year since the mechanic turned eighteen, he has had a very unfortunate habit of…

“For the love of—You damn bird for brains! I’m not gonna blow my engine this year!” The stripper finally snaps, swerving his car dangerously close to Natsu’s front fender. “And for all the other idiots. Just because it’s happened once or twice doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen again this year.”

Lucy giggles, drawing their attention and on a fleeting thought Natsu notices everyone else—including the music—has fallen quiet. In her Honda, the blonde grins, leaning back in her seat. “Just because you say that, Gray, doesn’t mean it won’t happen. By the way, you’re wrong. It’s not two times, it’s four. So bite your pride and bet on yourself blowing your engine. You know as well as we do that once you get there you’re gonna get drawn into either a grudge match with Lyon or a Free For All with the other crews and you will blow your engine crossing the finish line just like you have for the last three years.”

He’d swear the ice-prick’s ears are going pink in embarrassment if it weren’t for the low lighting and the blue tint of the mechanic’s dashboard gauges. The raven-haired man huffs, glaring at her through Natsu’s car. “So what if I have? Still doesn’t mean I’ll do it this year.”

“Uh-huh, and I’m Barney.” Okay, he really hadn’t been expecting that one. Natsu looks up into the rearview mirror, letting off the gas as he does, into the windshield of the truck and trailer behind him...That of Laxus and those in the crew only looking to spectate tonight. Meaning his squad and whoever could fit in the seats remaining. “Just admit it. You’re gonna keep blowing your engine until you stop letting the other crews get under your skin. So stop letting them get under your skin and Cana’ll stop making money off these guys giving you flak.”

His words have an unexpected effect on the raven-haired mechanic and even Natsu winces when the white Mitsubishi shoots off ahead. Sharing a look with Lucy, he rips his com off, throwing in into the passenger side seat of his car and races after him. It only takes a glance in the rear view to know the scarlet red 2015 WRX is easily keeping up with them. As the caravan gets left behind Natsu reaches up, feeling around the top of the box bolted to the ceiling where the sun visor would go until he finds a small round object the size of the tip of his pinkie. Quickly he inserts it in his ear, having turned the miniature com on before they left the lot.

“Alright, Erza, how long until they’re out of sight?”

The redhead hums, presumably looking behind for an estimate. “Give it another minute then they’ll be out of sight.”

“You realize we should’ve seen this coming from the start, right?”

Natsu sighs at Lucy’s question, pressing on the gas to keep his aggravated brother in sight. “Yeah, yeah. I was having fun and went too far. But how I was supposed to know he’d do this? I’m supposed to the hothead here, not him!”

“Natsu,” He can practically see the exasperation on her features. They’d been over this argument many times over the years, their cars being both a sore point and a route of escape from the insanity drummed up in their real lives but...how much does it take before we have to remember that the Garage and the racing is the dream and that there’s Hell waiting for us in Reality? Scowling, he steps on the gas.

“I know, Luce, I know. I’ve been brothers with the bastard since I was ten. I just wish he would tell me what his beef is with Ultear and Lyon.”

There’s a gasp over the line and he can’t tell whether it’s from Lucy or Erza. Though the question is answered when the redhead speaks. “Has he really given you no explanation? It’s been three years. What would happen to drive him of all people to these lengths?”

“I wish I knew.” Natsu huffs, onyx eyes following the white Mitsubishi in worry. He knows he’s the last person people expect to worry about the raven-haired mechanic and in another life maybe he wouldn’t but in this life, the pale, stripping habit man is the closest thing Natsu is willing to call a brother. Having found Gray living on the street when they were no more than kids Natsu had convinced his father to adopt the boy. Even if their personalities had clashed about nearly everything no one else besides Lucy had been crazy and willing enough to follow him headfirst into trouble. That Ride or Die attitude following the brothers through their teens into adulthood and their racing habits among other things.

Then, three years ago, something had changed. Both within Gray’s racing style and within the mechanic himself. It had happened during a racing night much like they’re currently on their way to. What that could possibly be, the salmon-haired racer has no idea. All he knows is what he’s seen, every time his brother has gotten into the same race as two other people he’s completely lost the icy calm exterior he’s well known for.

The road rage—Natsu unable to explain it as anything else—leading the man to make brutal mistakes almost always resulting in a melted or blown up engine and the Mitsubishi being put out of order for weeks on end. A costly mistake both time and money wise in their profession. Among the crew, it’s become a joke and something of a bet on whether Gray would destroy his car during a race but if Natsu had known this was really how the raven-haired mechanic felt about the supposedly harmless teasing then he wouldn’t have allowed it to continue.

Guess there’s nothing I can do about it now. When we return to Magnolia I’ll have to drag the answers out of him, this has gone on long enough. He sighs, laying off the gas to allow the women to catch. “Stick with him. We’ll ride to Hargeon like this and let the others catch up when they catch up.” Trusting Erza to let the rest of the crew know, Natsu leans back in his seat, preparing for the last half hour of the trip.

XxX

The cherry red Acura rounds the corner with the Mitsubishi nearly riding its’ back bumper. Across the parking lot, a lithe man looks up from the silver-haired woman he’d been talking to, sapphire blue eyes watching the cars park side beside. No more than a couple of seconds later, the scarlet red Subaru and midnight blue Honda are parking beside the first two. It’s only when he spots the two pickup trucks followed by several other familiar cars pulling into the busy parking lot that he groans, catching the attention of the raven-haired man beside him.

His brother arches an eyebrow, and the blond runs a hand down his face. “Fairy Tail’s here. Might as well go home now. So much for trying to take first place.” He knows he’s whining but seeing as there are very few racers among the crowded parking lot who have been known to outright win in a race against the rival team he feels he has a free pass to whine.

His brother doesn’t even bother to tear his eyes away from the present competition flaunting their engines. “I don’t see why that would bother you, Light. Fairy Tail and Sabertooth are on pretty even ground.”

“Shadow!” The blond groans, waving a hand at the multiple cars parking in a line on the other side of the lot in between two large pickup trucks emptying of spectators. “They’ve brought all the heavy hitters! Do you realize how hard it’s gonna be to make top points with them here?!”

Shadow’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile and he reaches out, patting Light’s shoulder. “There, there baby boo. Let's go say hello to our cousins before they get drawn into the grudge circles.” With a sigh, Light allows himself to be hauled across the lot.

Natsu grins as he climbs out of his car at the two approaching figures. It’s been a while since he had seen his cousins. He waves at them while shutting the door and leaning against it. He turns his head slightly when he can hear the crunching of the gravel underneath boots, grin widening at Lucy as she approaches him and his cousins. Lucy gives the two Tigers a bright smile as she comes to stand next to Natsu. “Hey Shadow! Hey Light!”

“Hello Lucy,” comes Shadow’s greeting with a tilt of his head as a gesture of a nod.

Light on the other hand… “Hey there Blondie!” Light gives the other blonde what he thinks is his most charming smile. Lucy scoffs, rolling her eyes at his poor attempt at flirting and leans back against Natsu’s door.

Crossing her arms, Lucy narrows her eyes at the blonde Tiger, “You’re a blond too you asshole.” It’s not the scowl she wears plain as day that has Light pause in his approach...its when his cousin is scowling like that. If he didn’t know for a fact the longer then normal incisors where a genetic abnormality found only in their bloodline he’d say that the pink-haired man was filing his to be more intimidating. All the same, when he catches the slightly strained smile aimed at him, Light backs off chuckling humorlessly.

Shadow, upon seeing his brother and their cousin’s reaction mentally sighs and turns to Lucy. “Hello, Celeste. I can’t say I’m surprised to see how many people you’ve brought with you. You must be excited about tonight’s races.” She grins, nodding to him.

“Oh, we’re definitely looking forward to whooping some ass tonight. Everyone’s geared up and ready to race.” Beside her, Shadow watches Natsu tense before he gently lays a hand on her arm and moves away, grinning a feral grin the raven-haired Tiger would recognize as nothing more than trouble. Lucy rolls her eyes, shooing him away. “Go and make trouble already. I think everyone’s surprised you haven’t yet.” As he disappears through the crowd Shadow arches a brow at her in question. Lucy shrugs in a ‘what can you do?’ kind of way. “It’s Hargeon,” She tells him as if it explains everything and really—in a way it does. The entire family has heard of the race five years before and of Natsu’s relentless pursuit of the loan shark so it doesn’t take much to guess where he’s going.

Shadow nods, grabbing his brother by the back of his coat and they follow after the salmon-haired mechanic.

XxX

Where the hell is he at?! Finding the pick-up truck located at the center of the massive congregation isn’t a problem...it’s finding the short midget who drives the pickup that’s a problem. Of course, Natsu also knows if he were to say anything about the man’s height to his face it would result in very bad things for Fairy Tail. He snorts, glancing up at the back of the truck. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s been knocked off the scoreboard for throwing insults at him.

Rounding the other side of the black Ford F250 he finds the man in question standing on the hood looking over the crowd. Natsu grins, approaching the short man. “Yo, Mato!” The short man turns, his face as usual covered by the hood of his sweatshirt and zipped to make it appear he’s wearing a pumpkin over his head. The Master of Ceremonies—as is his official title—has been leading the racing circuit for as long as Natsu can remember. The fact he’s never seen the man’s face in that time not worrying him as much as it would if he were less experienced with the racing world.

“Ah, Salamander!” The M.C. greets him, “We were beginning to wonder when you and your crew would arrive. This is, after all, the first race of the season.”

Natsu snorts, looking at the people gathering around the front of the truck. “If you seriously think we’d miss this then you may just as well be going senile. Anyway, you seen the Shark lately?”

Mato chuckles, looking up at the crowd as well. “I think I saw him earlier tryin’ to hustle a couple of Phantoms. You know the rules. Catch him and I’ll put you up for the first match.” Turning around, Natsu puts one foot on the protruding hubcap of the truck and hauls himself up so he’s standing on top of the tire itself. With the added height he’s high enough over the crowd’s head to find who he’s searching for.

A couple minutes of searching and he spots the sapphire haired man slithering through the crowd away from him. Beyond the Loan Shark’s position, it’s not hard to spot the maroon 2005 Toyota Tundra Natsu’s seen the man drive these past couple years. Realizing what Bora plans to do, the pinkett huffs and jumps down, taking off in the direction of the Shark and the truck.

Arriving at the truck, he finds he’s made it first. He leans against the driver side door, onyx eyes on vigilant alert for Bora. A minute or two pass before the Loan Shark emerges from the crowd obviously fumbling with the keys. When Bora fumbles them so badly he drops them Natsu grins darkly and leans down, picking up the keys, his eyes never leaving the frozen form standing before him. “You in a hurry to leave, Bora?”

The bastard’s nose is still as crooked as the night he broke it, a nice memento of his mistake in messing with the wrong person and while Lucy laughs whenever she’s sees the man, Natsu takes greater pride in the fear the cowering Loan Shark shows whenever they’re face to face. Oh, the mechanic knows exactly what the cheat had been trying to do—he’s attempted the same damn thing every year for fuck’s sake—but then where’s the fun in that?

Bora swallows, pulling at the collar of his dark purple button-up in near panic. “Wha...? Me leave? Never!” He forces a laugh, sounding more like he’s crying and Natsu gets the feeling if he pushed the Shark enough he would. “I was j-ju-just—” Having heard enough, Natsu grabs him by the collar of his shirt and hauls him back to Mato. The crowd around them parts like waves before a ship and Natsu is back at the Ford in less time then it took for him to leave it. Considering the two vehicles are nearly opposite in their positions on the lot that’s saying something.

In front of Mato, Natsu drops Bora and grins. “We’re here.”

Chuckling, the M.C. reaches for the clip attached to his hoodie and turns to the crowd. “Alright, alright how’s everyone doing tonight?” Around him, the crowd roars with joy and he waves his hands up and down above his head to calm them down.

“Sounds like the kind of party psyched to watch some racing. We’ve got all the heavy hitters here tonight. If you're with the Blue Pegasus crowd let me hear ya!”

Holding a hand to his ear he turns to the crowd as a group of people surrounding a group of five cars lined up closer to the back of the lot scream. Mato nods in agreeance. “That’s what I thought. The pretty boys have got all the beauties eating out of their hands.” Turning around he dances over the vent on the hood, pointing to the far corner. “Quatro Cerberus! Let's hear ya!”

As he goes about announcing the crews Natsu can do nothing but shake his head and smile. It had been this way since he and Lucy first started coming when they were but ten with his father and uncle. The M.C. at the time had very well done much the same thing to get the crowd riled and in his opinion, it truly hadn’t taken much to get the crowd wild but...this is their racing. Wild spectators and wilder cars.

“And now,” Mato’s voice draws Natsu back to the present and he looks up, finding the M.C. planted firmly in the middle of the truck hood. “The crew that’s won the circuit for the past four years in a row. Fairy Tail! It’s time to wake up Hargeon!” All around him the crowd goes wild, his crew the loudest of all. Grinning proudly Natsu whoops and hollers with the best of them. Mato laughs, his shoulders shaking with his exhilaration. “Everyone’s here, I’m sure we’ve woken up everybody in a ten-block radius so now it’s time to race! Racers! You know the deal. Grudge matches and Callouts need to be made up here so if you’ve got a bone to pick or are looking to pink-slip some poor bastard get your asses up here.”

Natsu, knowing Mato already knows of his grudge match against Bora doesn’t bother to say anything as people begin to appear from the woodwork to stand in front of the truck. A woman with long black hair wearing a tight black shirt and a pair of daisy dukes is the first to emerge. It’s the tattoo on the left side of her abdomen that tells Natsu all he needs to know.

“Ah, Minerva,” Natsu can’t see Mato’s face under the mask but he calls it intuition and knows the M.C. is grinning. “Sabertooth steps up first. What’s the call?”

The Tiger sneers, turning to face the crowd. “Sabertooth calls out Mermaid Heel!”

While the crowd is divided, exclaiming one or the other and trying to be louder Natsu just rolls his eyes. The turf war between Sabertooth and Mermaid Heel is nothing new. With Sabertooth having a firm grasp on the city north of Crocus and Mermaid Heel keeping their high heels pinned on the city to the south, the Capital has nearly become a battlefield several times over the last decade. Even if both crews can get most of their aggravation out with the races, the other crews can see the lit match hovering above the gasoline trail.

It won’t take much for things to go up in smoke. As the thought crosses Natsu’s mind, he grins, the metaphorical light bulb flashing. Wonder what Gramps would do if those two really did go at it. Knowing him it’d be a chance to get his fingers further into the city.

When movement catches his attention, the mechanic looks to find a large screen standing up from the roof of the Ford. Once it’s standing up, it turns on, an eagle-eye view of the route they’ll be running taking up seventy-five percent of the screen. On the right side, the last twenty-five percent is a column with the names and pictures of the cars of the people who are gonna be racing. At the very top of the column, Natsu sees his nickname “Salamander” along with his Acura going up against Bora and his Toyota. Below that is Minerva and her 1973 Ford Mustang going up against…

“Kagura and her 1979 Porsche 928 take second Grudge. Any others?” As if prompted, two other people emerge from the crowd, one a woman wearing a short wine red dress that stops mid-thigh. Brown knee-high boots covering thigh high stockings tap against the ground in a steady rhythm and when she pauses she turns, flipping long magenta-colored hair over her shoulder.

“I challenge Hibiki of Blue Pegasus.” Her voice is steady, confident as she calls out and Natsu has a feeling he knows why. His theory is proven correct when she turns to face the tall ginger-haired man in a neat suit stepping out of the crowd. On the back her dress, embroidered in a fine silver stitch is the symbol of Crime Sorciere—another racing crew who's somewhat closer to Fairy Tail then the others save his cousins in Sabertooth.

The well dressed Blue Pegasus smiles and the women around him swoon in approval. The magenta Crime Sorciere not so much. She scowls, crossing her arms over her chest until he turns to her bowing in respect. “To what do I owe the honor of such a beautiful lady?”

Hibiki, Natsu now recalls the woman calling him, would be nothing but a playboy if it weren’t for the fact he knows just how smart he is. It’s not fully known in the Underworld but those crews who have interacted with Blue Pegasus most often have rapidly learned the playboy is, in fact, a cover for the genius Hibiki actually is. So then, Natsu quietly wonders, what does Siegrain and his crew want from him?

He’d track down the man to ask but if he left the circle before all grudges were finalized his would be canceled. Knowing the Shark standing—cowering—beside him has already made bets worth a good bit of money he’s not planning to let him get off without paying up. He pushes away the urge to go search for his old friend and pays more attention to the current call out, somewhat curious to what the outcome will be.

“I challenge you to a match.” She declares, paraphrasing what she’s said earlier.

Hibiki arches a brow though appears somewhat bemused by the challenge. “And if you should win, what is it you wish to have of me?”

Natsu grimaces, disliking the formal speech. None of the other crews but Blue Pegasus speak in such a formal way even among themselves. It’s part of the reason he tries not to get picked by Makarov when meeting with the playboys is required; he constantly gets the feeling they’re talking about him even if he can’t prove it without making himself look more idiotic. That said it’s also fun to watch them pick on his cool-headed brother for his stripping habit.

Magenta, as Natsu decides to call her, scowls. “The details will be discussed after the race.”

Perking up at her words, the mechanic glances over then frowns when he realizes the crowd has closed in too much for him to get a view of what Gramps may be doing. If he could then he’d be able to get an idea of what he’s to do about this turn of events. As it is he just rolls his shoulders turning back in time to catch Hibiki shaking hands with Magenta, his grin tight enough to be considered a smirk.

On the truck Mato whoops, stomping a foot on the hood. “Grudge three is up! Crime Sorciere versus Blue Pegasus!” Above his head Hibiki’s name comes up on top of the dark blue Chevy Camaro Z28 SS Natsu can only guess he’s decided to drive this year. Underneath, the name Meredy comes up along with a hot pink 2007 Mercedes Benz L600. Mato turns, looking out of the crowd. “Three high octane matches and the night’s just getting started? Eeee!!!We're not getting any sleep tonight! If that’s all then racers to your cars and we can get onto—”

“Hold it!” Mato stops halfway through his comment, looking down to find a tall man bearing his way through the crowd. The man finally steps out, allowing the lighting to hit him and Natsu arches an eyebrow when he recognizes him. Iron Rock Jura as he’s known among the racing crowd is someone Natsu knows to take the sport very seriously. An honorable man—yes—but a man who didn’t earn the moniker for being weak. At six foot eleven. he’s one of the tallest men the mechanic has ever met besides Elfman. Deeply tanned skin speaks of years spent doing work in the sun, a lack of hair leaving the man’s head just as tan while more than enough muscle to heft several tires at once gives just an idea of how strong he truly is. The fact he wears a tight sleeveless exercise shirt, a pair of jeans and combat boots does nothing to disguise this.

“Well isn’t it the mountain of a man, Iron Rock Jura!” Mato laughs earning cheers from the crowd. Mato steps forward, looking down at the taller man and though Natsu can’t see it, he can hear the grin in the man’s voice when he speaks. “Man, I thought the crew sounded a little lacking when I did roll call.”

Jura comes to stand in front of the truck, his head almost level with Mato’s chest and frowns looking up at the M.C. “Our apologies for being late, there were issues that delayed our departure.” Murmurs of agreement come from the crowd and Natsu can agree with the sentiment. After all Fairy Tail isn’t the only crew that runs a second—legitimate—business requiring attention. Lamia Scale, Jura’s Crew has a heavy hand in the shipping yards of their city. Said yards running twenty-four hours a day seven days a week.

Though, the mechanic ponders watching Jura turn to the crowd. I wonder just what would put that crew behind schedule? They’re usually good about preparing and being here early. Even if they did send someone ahead to keep their place it would’ve had to be something important to make them fall behind.

“Lamia Scale calls out The Drunken Falcon of Quatro Cerberus.”

Later Natsu will swear to the heavens and back he doesn’t but he chokes on his spit at the announcement. He stares at Jura in shock until another man steps out of the crowd. When Jura turns to look, Natsu looks as well, finding a tall lithe man standing at the edge of the crowd. He wears little but a dark brown pair of harem pants that stop below his knees and a navy blue leather jacket that only covers his arms, shoulders, and comes down to a few inches below his shoulder blades. Natsu doesn’t need to look to know the man has the stylized number 4 of the Quatro Cerberus crew tattooed on his back.

“Bacchus.” The salmon-haired mechanic mutters under his breath. “Of course it had to be Bacchus.” Natsu shakes his head. Of all the people he challenged it just had to be him. What the hell is Jura thinking?

The Drunken Falcon didn’t earn his name for being able to drink just about anyone under the table. He and his pick up, Ol’ Heavy are well known for being dangerous to race against. If not just for the weight the rat rod can pull but the fact its driver is at least three sheets to the wind when he races. A racer who has no qualms about playing demolition derby in a pickup that can run ten seconds on a quarter-mile is something most racers try to avoid. Most of them at least. The mechanic has seen several rookies over the past several years just getting into the circuit go up against the duo and get their shit utterly demolished.

To hear that Iron Rock Jura of all people wants to go up against the drunkard in what some would call a suicide mission is a big surprise. Though, Natsu ponders watching both men shake hands, what if he’s doing it because it’s a suicide mission? Indeed it’s a very real possibility. Even though he’s been here for a little under half an hour he hasn’t seen many new faces this year. They’ll likely come in on later races but most of the newbies tend to show up on the first night to see if they can step with the experienced racers. That they get their asses kicked and limp home with their tails tucked between their legs goes unspoken.

On the board Jura’s name along with his Maximus Ultra 1968 Dodge Charger shows up above Bacchus and his royal purple 1949 Chevrolet Rat Rod. The fact that Bacchus has used the same truck for many years now earning a place for the truck’s name under his own.

“There we have it, folks! Our four grudge matches of the night and man are they gonna be crazy. First of the night, ” Mato turns, pointing at Natsu as he speaks. “We’ve got Salamander of Fairy Tail against the Shark Bora. I think we can all say who’s gonna win that one but make sure to get your bets in any way!” The crowd cheers, several people moving about to place their bets as Mato turns to where Minerva stands glaring at Kagura. “Next up is our catfight of the night! Minerva of Sabertooth versus Kagura of Mermaid Heel! Look out folks, they’ve got their claws out!” Amongst the cheers, there’s laughter at the all too correct comparison and even Natsu chuckles.

Spinning on his heel, Mato’s dancing across the hood to Magenta and Hibiki, his energy infectious to the rest of the crowd. “Our third match, hehe we’ve got a playboy chasing that tail. It’s to be shown whether he’ll be eating dust or something better tonight.” Getting the hoots and hollering he’s looking for, Mato’s back across the hood and pointing at Jura. “And our final grudge, the suicide match of the night… IROOOON ROOOCCK JURAAAA against the DRUNKEN FALCON! Can Iron Rock Jura keep his cool and that Charger of his on the asphalt long enough to beat the Rat Rod known for rolling cars or will Ol’ Heavy claim another victim?”

When the crowd roars Mato cackles and waves his hands up and down to calm them. “Alright, alright. Grudges are set, time to set the rules. First rule, if you’re not at the starting line by third call the opponent gets the win. Second rule, chase is the race. Opponent jumps the line and you go after him you gotta take the race. If they jump and you sit then it’s your win. Third rule, you burn down you’re gonna get your ass kicked,” Mato shrugs, glancing at Bora. “plain and simple.” He claps his hands then opens his arms. “Racers to your cars. Get prepped and we’ll see the first match to the line after the Free For Alls are set.”

Satisfied, Natsu turns away from the M.C. and begins making his way over to his crew and car. He doesn’t need to stay close to hear the man, not when the speakers are loud enough for him to be heard across the lot. Now that the crowd isn’t afraid of him it takes him a minute before he can get through the crowd. He knows well the kind of aggression that can come up if a racer nears an opposing crew’s cars. Being among the crowd opponents can go around the cars they just can’t go between the cars.

Circumventing the Mermaid Heel crew he doesn’t miss the weary looks he gets. Weary is an understatement. More like downright territorial. He snorts, casting a glance back at the plump Midia giving him the stink eye. He’s not afraid to fight them but he also knows that Erza will have his hide if he tries to start a fight for a stupid reason.

He pushes away those thoughts though once he gets back to their cars. Gray spots him first and they fist bump as Natsu comes to stand beside him. “So what’s going on?”

His brother shrugs bare shoulders, having already lost his shirt since they arrived. “Nothing much so far. Everyone’s laying down their bets, checking out each other’s cars, your sister’s trying to race, squaring each other up. All in all, it’s a regular race night. Just a bit more tension between Sabertooth and Mermaid Heel but other than that,” He shrugs again to finish off his statement and Natsu nods.

“Good, good. Sounds like it should—” His brother’s words finally click and Natsu snaps around, looking at the raven-haired mechanic with wide eyes. He doesn’t even get the words out before the M.C. is back at it, he voice reverberating off the sides of the buildings surrounding the lot.

“The first Free For All match up of the night is…” Both men turn their eyes to the screen on the truck visible even above the crowd in time for the cartoon slot machine to spin to a stop with four different symbols where the slot symbols would normally go.

Natsu can only shake his head, looking back at his brother. “Grimoire Heart, Mermaid Heel, Blue Pegasus, and Lamia Scale. Could the line-up get any more random?” If he were to be honest with himself, Natsu would commend Mato and his crew for coming up with a way to line up the races without any fights breaking out. While the crowd enjoys watching the Grudges, it’s the Free For Alls that bring in the racers and their crews.

A Free For All being exactly as it sounds, a no holds barred race around the city between four racers. The crews being picked at random knocks out any possibility of cheating and each crew being picked twice means there’s more than ample opportunity for a crew to come away with points at the end of the night. To the crews though, the money made from bets is just a plus of the sport, the real reason they come is for the points. Said points being required to make it to the final race where the M.C. offers up an obscene amount of money. Granted the final race is about as dangerous as they get but well...the risk is worth the rewards.

“The racers for the first match have been decided!” As they watch, the slot machine moves to the right of the screen and a column with names and cars much like the Grudge match-list comes up. “We’ve got Azuma of Grimoire Heart! Millianna of Mermaid Heel!” He pauses a moment to let the girls screeching have their moment before announcing the next racer, “Jenny of Blue Pegasus!” Catcalls ring across the crowd. “Ohhh! This one should be interesting! And for the final racer of the first free for all, we have Chelia of Lamia Scale!” Natsu ducks his mouth behind his scarf, a smile on his face as he hears Wendy shouting out for her friend while he hears Lyon nearly screeching in shock. But then he freezes, remembering what Gray had said earlier before he got distracted. Wendy wants to race tonight! His sister wants to race tonight. Granted she’s old enough but still, he’ll never forgive himself if she gets hurt.

He turns back, pulling his keys out of his pocket and handing them to his brother. Gray looks at the keys in his hand, then at Natsu and nods, moving away to start his car up while he walks over to Erza’s car. When he stops in front of the scarlet car he finds its’ owner, Lucy, and his sister leaning between the two cars and chatting. Behind him, he’s aware that the slot machine is already spinning.

“Wendy!” His sister looks up, her eyes going wide in surprise. “What’s this I hear about you racing?”

It’s not her that answers but Erza, the scarlet haired woman resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay, Natsu, I told her she could use my car tonight.” Now that is something of a relief, but that's also not what worries him.

He frowns, his eyes never leaving his sister. “That's not what I'm worried about, Erza. You know just as well as I do what's required to be able to race and it sure as hell is not having access to a fast car.” Erza realizes where he's coming from and her hand falls away, allowing him to step closer to Wendy. “Wendy, these cars are extremely fast. You know that as well as any of us. You can't just hop in and say you're ready to drive. Have you had any time behind the wheel of that car? Do you know what kind of power you're sitting on? Because I can sure as hell tell you that if you bite off more than you can chew it wouldn't just mean a bent fender or a broken light.”

Wendy studies her brother. His normally bright onyx eyes are clouded with worry, his shoulders are tight, not that anyone who hadn’t known him for years would be able to tell. But it’s enough of a tell for her to know just how much her decision bothers him. She won’t deny that it scares the hell out of her too: the thoughts, the what-ifs, the many possibilities that could occur on those streets. Either way, she grins that Dragneel grin, her eyes alight with a flame of determination.

“Natsu, I know, and I plan on crossing that finish line in one piece and in first place. I promise, I’ll make you and everyone else proud.” Her words reassure him, and Natsu glances back, finding Erza watching them both with a serious expression. Finally, he yields, exhaling a sigh.

“Alright, you win.” And he looks back, arching a brow when he finds his sister bouncing on her heels. “Remember, race smarter, not harder. I’ll be there when you cross the finish line.”

She squeals, lurching forward to wrap him in a tight hug. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

Natsu chuckles, hugging her back before turning and urging her forward. “Yeah, yeah. Now go. The M.C. isn’t one to be patient.”

“Fairy Tail, we need a Racer, pick your choice.” As if on cue, Mato’s voice rings across the clearing, drawing the attention of the crew in question.

Grinning, Natsu turns back to Wendy. “Well, you said you wanted to race. When will you get a better choice?” With that he grabs Wendy around her waist and hauls her up, causing her to yelp as he sets her on the roof of Lucy’s car. When she’s safe he jumps on the hood, leaping up again to stand on the roof. He puts his forefinger and thumb in between his lips and blows a loud wolf whistle that has the crowd turning to him. “Yo, Mato! We got your Racer right here. She’s the newest addition to our crew.”

It’s a partial lie but who in their right mind would call out Salamander for it? Gently, Natsu reaches down and pulls Wendy to her feet. At the sight of the blue-haired girl standing beside him, the crowd begins to murmur. Mato, on the other hand, steps forward, raising a beckoning hand to the pair.

“Hombre Lagarto, you do not cease to surprise. Ven, ven, let's meet this new Racer. Surely if she’s apart of Fairy Tail she is excellent behind the wheel.” Natsu scowls at the odd nickname the M.C. has for him. It wouldn’t matter much to him if Mato would just not call him that here. Jumping off the car he huffs, offering a hand to her. Lizard Man my ass. Mato’s lucky he runs the racing circuit.

Stepping toward the crowd has the people dividing like the sea and he passes with nothing more then a small glance in case of danger—jealousy and contempt is a big reason for Racers not living long in the circuit. Though most wouldn’t dare to touch him or any other members of Fairy Tail, he still sees a reason to be on edge. Thankfully they get to the Ford without trouble.

“And you, Señorita, what is your name?”

Wendy looks up, nowhere near tall enough to look the man in the eye otherwise and Natsu hears her swallow her fear. “Wendy,” as an afterthought she adds a quiet “Sir.” That has several people around them giggling.

Mato chuckles as well, extending a hand to her. “Well, Wendy, there's no need to call me Sir. I'm not that old. Just call me Mato.” She shakes his hand and after a moment he steps back, tuning in the rest of the crowd. “Right, what car are you in Brisa?”

Before she can answer, Natsu sets a hand on her shoulder, grinning at Mato's nickname for her. “Oi, Mato! She'll be running Titania’s tank tonight.” Mato stumbles back dramatically, looking over the crowd at the scarlet WRX and back at them.

“The Tank, Ligarto? Are you sure such a sweet thing could handle something like that?” It’s the wrong words to say, especially to his sister and Natsu lets his hand drop, looking away as Wendy’s expression dips into something much more dangerous. She stomps forward, the pleats of her skirt swirling around her thighs with every step.

If Natsu were to be honest, he might have said the same thing...if it weren’t for a fact he knows she’s driven his car several times between test runs and repairs and whatnot. While driving something like The Tank is a tad more dangerous for the weight Erza has packed in it—he’s still not happy about that decision—he can respect she’s got experience with the power under the hood. Anyway, he’d’ve said the same thing only not so blatantly and not in such a way to fire her up.

Wendy sets a sandaled foot on the bully bar and leaps up until she’s standing face to face with Mato, her cinnamon-brown eyes a glittering hickory. “Now you listen here, I might be small but I’ll beat anyone’s ass is a race ten times over. Put me in that race, I’ll show you what a Fairy Tail Racer is made of.” Her snarl, for it is nothing more than a snarl has Mato retreating several steps out.

He looks over at Natsu, finding the salmon-haired racer looking the other way trying to hide a laugh and he nods. “Very,” His voice squeaks and he clears his throat, nodding at her. “Very well. Fairy Tail’s newest Racer will be representing them in The Tank for the second set. Señorita, if you’ll step down I’ll continue with tonight’s set up?”

Like that her expression changes once more and she jumps down, grinning as she returns to Natsu. Natsu, for his credit, doesn’t look the slightest like he’d just been laughing at the M.C.’s misfortune for pissing off his sister. Instead, he grins, turning to walk with her back through the crowd.

“Good job,” He murmurs, avoiding a wild elbow. “But now comes the hard part. Are you sure you’ll be okay out there? Erza and her car didn’t earn those names for being soft. The Tank is just that...a car built for taking hits and crushing the opponents.”

To his surprise Wendy turns around and wraps her arms around his middle, looking up at him with that puppy pout able to melt the coldest of hearts. “Brother, I promise. I’ll be the first across the line and I’ll do it without getting hurt.”

No one can stand against the puppy pout for long—those managing to hold out longest only counting their parents and Erza—so he doesn’t even try. He sighs, wrapping his arm around her in a side hug as they enter the clearing around their cars. They separate when they reach Lucy’s car and Natsu walks over to his. The mechanic takes the time to pause and look under his hood once more, all the hoods of the cars participating having been raised to show off to the crowds, and his brows furrow in worry. Gently he runs a finger along a hose.

“Worried?” Of course I am, but only you would notice. He sighs, his eyes never leaving the hose as his brother approaches.

“Depends what kind you’re asking ‘bout.” That earns a chuckle from Gray. Then the stripper is leaning under the hood as well, his navy blue eyes scanning the details of the beast of an engine. Satisfied with the sturdiness of the hose Natsu sits up, looking him in the eye. “If you mean Wendy racing, of course, I’m worried. She’s going out there in The Tank for crying out loud. If she was going out in Luce’s car or hell even mine I wouldn’t care but Titania’s? That’s got a lot of weight on it for being a streetcar.”

Gray nods and both men turn to watch the screen when the slot machine starts spinning for the third race. “I’m not surprised. I mean I’m worried but clearly not as worried as you are if you’re triple-checking your hoses of all things.” There’s a loud ring and they look up to find Fairy Tail, Sabertooth, A witch’s hat and a mermaid tail sitting across the bar. Gray scowls, his previous undeterrable expression shattering into a million shards of anger. “Looks like it’s my turn.”

The salmon-haired brother can only frown, barely managing to catch his eye. “You know you don’t have to do this.”

Gray huffs, already moving. “I have to and you know it.” Like that he’s swallowed up within the crowd.

_How long will it take before you realize you don’t have to do it alone Ice-For-Brains?_ Shaking his head, Natsu turns around and closes his hood. Ride or Die my brother.

**XxX**   
**AN:**

**DP: *looks around in confusion* I swear that Bear was just here. *shrugs* oh well. I get to sign out the chapter by myself this time! *cackles* Grizz is gonna be in for a surprise!**

**Rae: *cackles* Nice try Wade. You don’t get to sign out by yourself.**

**DP: *yelps* Rae?! I thought you went with Grizz to do the thing and the other thing and *drops into the chair with a huff* you guys are no fair.**

**Rae: That’s what you get for thinking. *looks to the readers* I hope everyone enjoyed the shenanigans the gang has gotten into this time! Next chapter the real fun begins… the racing! Peace out!**

**Grizzly, Raelin, and Deadpool out for the night!**

**P.S. Language terms:**

**Midia = Latina**   
**Midio = Latino**

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> My name is Raelin, but you may call me Rae, everyone else does! I've been on the site for awhile now, and have decided to finally post my own story. So welcome to the insanity! This story is cross posted on FF.net under the co-author of the story. Grizz and I have been a fan of each other's works for years now and I had this little brain child. When I presented the idea of a collab with Grizz, she jumped at the chance. So we have been busy at work for the past couple of months getting this story up and going. And let me tell you guys...you are in for a bumpy ride!
> 
> So buckle-up buttercups! It's time for the race of the lifetime!
> 
> Ja ne,  
> Rae


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